The Ascension of John Sheppard
by zooropa1
Summary: Alternate universe post-series story with one original character. Any odd or incorrect grammar is a stylistic choice just as is the use of occasional British spellings. Many sections are stream of consciousness and non-linear due to the nature of the original character. There are references to the original character's other AUs including SG-1, Poltergeist: The Legacy.
1. Vegas

As he lay dying in the Nevada desert, his life's blood slowly leaking out from his side, he looked up at the stars and wondered what the hell else was out there.

With the sun behind the mountains, the burning debris from the explosion gave off the last bit of warmth he would ever feel in his miserable life. No sense of redemption here.

Flat on his back staring into violet sky, he vaguely wondered if the explosion had damaged the original paint on his '77 Camaro. Son-of-a-bitch. Funny how the mind wanders on the brink of death.

 _(I know everything there is to know about you.)_

As a disgraced military pilot whoíd disobeyed orders and blown a rescue mission in Afghanistan, he thought he'd seen every possible horror. He was wrong. As a soon-to-be-deceased Las Vegas PD detective, he thought heíd seen every possible weirdness. He was wrong.

He hadn't believed that McKay guy's bullshit before seeing Exhibits A and B. Maybe not even then if he hadn't already witnessed his murder suspect survive, and run away from, a dive off Planet Hollywood into the alleys behind the Strip.

 _(I'm telling you this because I think you have the same strength of character as that other John Sheppard.)_

His murder suspect a life-sucking alien? Feds claiming to be based in another galaxy? Just take the money and leave town, right? But oh no...

 _(Do not engage. I repeat : do not engage!)_

He'd gone and figured out the...what-ever's...location and called it in to McKay. What kind of security clearance can order up an air strike within minutes of getting a phone call, anyway?

Then he'd managed to get himself shot in the initial exchange of gunfire. Stupid, John!

He wished he'd kept the spearmint gum.

 _(Let me show you your destiny. John. Shep-pard.)_

How'd that thing know his name anyway? Oh, yeah, McKay said they can get in your head. Bastard. I had a full house. Now, I'm down here in the dirt.

Shoulda kept driving...the stars...eclipsed. A billowing - what is that - the moon? No, a cloud. There's no clouds in my desert.

A face in the cloud. She reaches down...

 _(One thing you need to know - I can completely ruin your life.)_

...touches his forehead...

 _(Well, I don't have much of one so go ahead.)_

...places her hand on his chest.

His breath slows.

She bows her head.

He hears her speak but her lips do not move.

 _(It's time to release your burden, John Sheppard.)_


	2. Mission's End

Dr. Carson Beckett feels the hair on the back of his neck stand up and knows she is behind him. As lovely a lass as she is, it's still creepy the way she simply appears. Could be worse, he supposes, at least she does these little things to indicate her arrival. He turns from his workstation.

"Yes, luv, what can I do for you?"

Her preternatural calmness sets her apart, a reminder that she is not human like the other members of the Atlantis expedition. Actually he doesn't know much about her except she arrived quite some time ago and now, for some reason he doesn't quite understand, she is...well, she is the city now. How did McKay put it? Like an operating system in a computer - and therefore never likely to become a patient of Beckett's. She has, however, uncovered and activated some incredible medical systems and research that he could spend the rest of his life studying.

So it is a shock to see distress on her face when he turns around. "What's wrong? What tis it?"

"Colonel Sheppard's team just returned. He's injured. Here's what we'll need to treat him."

"We?" Beckett asks, startled.

"You're going to need my help, Carson. Please. Trust me."

"How bad is it?"

"Very bad." She starts detailing Sheppard's injuries, prioritising them by severity. Adrenalin building, Doctor Beckett starts giving orders to his staff to ready equipment. He stops one of his associates, "The Colonel has O positive blood, get some volunteers in here."

Ville interrupts. "I've already started synthesizing blood based on his DNA profile in your database, Carson."

Gravely, Beckett replies, "You've been looking at our medical files? Those are confidential...," then he stops and changes horses, "We don't have the ability to synthesize blood that's compatible to an individual."

She nods apologetically, "You do now; I only uncovered the research a short time ago..."

Over his radio, Beckett hears a transmission from Richard Wolsey, nominally the head of the Atlantis expedition. _'Dr. Beckett, we have a medical emergency...'_

The doctor interrupts the weasel of a man, "Yes, yes, I'm aware, Mr. Wolsey. Ville's giving me a briefing now and we're preparing for surgery."

 _'Surgery? How do you know he needs surgery when you haven't even examined him yet...never mind. Let me know if you need anything.'_

Beckett says pointedly, "Our Ville seems to have everything covered. Where is the Colonel now...?"

Major Lorne and his men could be heard entering the infirmary, Lorne shouting orders. "Never mind. Beckett out." To Ville, he adds sternly, "More about patient confidentiality later, young lady. Major, we'll take it from here. You and your men need to wait outside."

Lorne, reluctant to leave, feels a gentle nudge in the back of his mind. He glances at Ville who is already at the Colonel's side. They nod to each other. Lorne merely says, "Do what you can," and leaves to make his report to Wolsey and turn his team around to go back to the planet.

 _(six months later)_

Voices. He'd grown so accustomed to hearing the sounds of Atlantis in his head that he didn't even realise he'd begun hearing voices. Well, not voices per se but more like 'presences'? For instance, he could anticipate who he would meet around the next corner or who he would find before entering a room. Granted, there's only a coupla hundred people on the base but still, he'd take those odds to Vegas.

The second thought he had was that there might be Wraith hidden in the city and his third thought was, if there are Wraith in Atlantis, this is a pretty lame way to gather intel.

His fourth thought was that Airman Kelly wouldn't mind kicking him out of bed in the morning. _'What? Okay, that was not my thought! I mean, she's not bad looking but-oh crap.'_

Out loud, he says, "I'm fine, just a little sore."

"Colonel!" Wolsey draws alongside. "What a coincidence, I was just about to ask you that, but I suppose that's been everyone's first question for you today."

Sheppard lies, "Yeah. Thought I'd save you some time." He holds his hand gingerly against his side. The bullet hole healed up nicely.

"You've, ah, seen the latest orders from Stargate Command, I assume?"

"Yep."

I'm going to call a meeting of all the department heads later today and, if you're up to it, well, I wouldn't mind getting your thoughts afterward," Wolsey adds nervously.

"I'll have Lorne bring a Wraith stunner - just in case any of 'em get out of line," Sheppard uses his _we-must-never-speak-of-this-again_ voice.

Wolsey frowns. "Just some objectivity, please."

"Right."

In the conference room, or what used to be the Council chamber when the Ancients last lived in the city, Lt. Col. John Sheppard can tell from Richard Wolsey's demeanor that no one's going to leave this meeting a happy camper.

With the Wraith fighting amoungst themselves here in the Pegasus galaxy and the Ori followers threatening the Milky Way, Stargate Command back on Earth has been recalling low level military personnel from Atlantis base and replacing them with civilians. Lately, they'd begun recalling the Marines. Atlantis' military contingent is back to its pre-Wraith war level, which is fine with Sheppard, but he doesn't expect it to stop there.

Wolsey drones on, "Stargate Command feels that the Atlantis mission should return to the exploratory and scientific mission originally intended. In the present economy, however, the necessary expenditure and resource requirements have been re-examined by the IOA and the results..."

Sheppard interrupts, "You mean 'return on investment', don't you?"

At least Wolsey has the decency to look abashed. "Actually, yes, but..."

Dr. Rodney McKay puts it together and virtually explodes. "You're saying they want to shut us down? They can't be serious! We haven't even begun to scratch the surface of the Ancients' database - who knows what else could be in there..." The other department heads erupt with protests defending their particular lines of research. The cacophony drowns out all Wolsey's attempts to regain control of the meeting.

A shrill whistle sings out and everyone looks at Sheppard who looks at McKay. "Let the man speak, Rodney."

Relieved, Wolsey sighs, "Thank you, Colonel. It's important to understand that this decision is not a judgment on the value of the work everyone on the expedition has been doing..."

In spite of Sheppard's admonishment, McKay barks, "Did you even put up a fight for continuing this mission?"

Exasperated, Wolsey takes a breath and firmly answers to everyone in the room, "Yes. Believe me. I made every conceivable argument. The reality is, without IOA funding, we can't continue operations here." A sober silence follows.

McKay mutters, "This is insane," and rises to leave. The panel doors open automatically for him. Zelenka, cursing in Czech, joins him and by ones and twos the rest of the scientists follow. Alone with Wolsey and Sheppard, Major Evan Lorne quips, "I guess the meeting's over." Sheppard dismisses him with a nod.

Wolsey says nothing. Sheppard gets to his feet. "For what it's worth, I'm sure you did your best. McKay and the others, well, let 'em get back to Earth with their research, some fast food, satellite TV - they'll get over it."

Wolsey gives him a weak smile. "Right. Scientific discoveries of a lifetime they can't discuss. Papers their peers will never read because they'll be classified above Top Secret. They won't even be able to tell their families what they've been doing for the past five years."

"Nobody'd believe it anyway."

"At least you and your men can be folded back into Stargate Command."

"Oh, sure, sure, business as usual - another day, another planet. For me...not so much. They might let me fly 302s which, granted, is a serious step up from Apache helicopters..."

"But can't possibly compare to a puddle jumper that can read your mind and react instantly."

"Well, there's that, too. I seriously doubt they'll ever give me another command. Doesn't matter. There isn't an assignment in any galaxy that can compare to Atlantis. What about you?"

Wolsey cleans his glasses. "I know what you mean. I already turned down one plum assignment back on Earth to stay here."

Sheppard folds his arms, "Yeah, I heard about that. So. I guess we better plan our - what? - withdrawal? Retreat?"

"Our journey home." Wolsey rises and suddenly remembers one other invested party he hasn't briefed. "I don't suppose we could tell Ville about it together, say," he suggests hopefully, "in my office?"

Sheppard looks over his shoulder and back again as the doors swing open automatically. "I think she already knows."

Queasy, Wolsey realises, "Of course she does."

She does indeed know about the orders from the IOA and the SGC and simply asks how she can help. Sheppard doesn't really listen to the details. He's starting to get a headache.

"John. How are you feeling?"

"What?" Startled, he looks up at Ville, aborts a lie and decides to go with, "I'm a little tired. Should probably go back to my quarters."

"If you need anything?" she smiles at him as he rises to leave.

"Yeah. Sure, got you on speed dial," he jokes lamely, waggling a finger at his radio comm.

She gives him an odd look. "Get some rest, John. I'll check on you later."

"Thanks," he whispers quickly and makes his escape, relieved to be off the hook for any further social interaction.

As he sleeps, his mind remains busier than ever. His own neural impulses fire in response to Atlantis' technology pinging him with status and readiness updates. Thoughts of the expedition team members riffle past like pages in a book : Sgt. Roermanís six year old is not doing so well in school. One of the brilliant new associates in McKay's department wavers between requesting a transfer back to Earth or telling McKay off and getting fired instead. Airman Olsen is sure he's blown any shot he had at impressing his lieutenant, socially and professionally speaking.

He grows weary from trying to push back against the increase in pressure.

A shadow appears in his room. Cool fingertips brush his forehead. A warm hand rests gently on his chest, rising and falling with his breath.

"Mom?" he croaks.

"Shh, it's alright, sweetie. Everything's going to be just fine."

The voices in his head seem to clear and separate as he senses which thoughts are more important and which can safely be ignored.

 _(Two weeks later)_

McKay rushes into the infirmary. Beckett sighs, "What's wrong with you now, Rodney?"

"What? Me, no, nothing. Why? Why would you think - never mind. Listen, I heard you're not coming back to Earth? Why not?"

Beckett shakes his head; it's beyond him how the man can talk that fast and not run out of breath. "I'm going to continue my work with the victims of the retro-virus. Besides, technically, Carson Beckett died last year and I'm only a clone. Either way, I'm a civilian so I don't think the military can really stop me, now can they?" He continues packing instruments and equipment. "I've talked to Ville about it. She's agreed to give me access if I need to come back to the city to do any lab work or get more supplies."

"She can do that?"

"Yes, Rodney, if you can keep your voice down, we think one person could slip through the cracks unnoticed. Once she closes the wormhole to Earth, it'll be done."

Quietly McKay says, "But...you'll be alone. Well, not alone, alone, but you know what I mean."

"Rodney, I helped create a disease that's causing an epidemic in this galaxy. I owe it to those poor people to work on a cure and I can't do that from Earth without access to the Stargate. I'm staying behind. And, no, you can't stay with me."

"What? Oh, I wasn't suggesting...wait, do you want me to stay? No, of course you don't, not that I wouldn't, you know I would, but...look. I understand you feel like you're not the real Carson Beckett and that there won't be any of your kind back on Earth..."

"Any of my kind? What the bloody hell does that mean?"

"Well, clones, I mean, there won't be any other clones that know what you, what you're...never mind. Look, my point is..."

Beckett pleads, "What, Rodney? What is your point already?"

McKay focuses. "You and Sheppard are my closest friends. Alright? When we get back to Earth, I'm leaving the SGC. He'll be going on missions. And you...well, if you stay here..." The great Dr. Rodney McKay suddenly finds himself overcome and vulnerable.

Beckett lays his hand on McKay's shoulder. "I know I wouldn't be standing here if not for you. You saved my life and because of that I have this opportunity to help these people and maybe redeem meself in the process. And for that, I'm eternally grateful. Thank you, my friend."

McKay tries to recover his dignity. "It's just that I've developed some serious abandonment issues over the past few years..."

"Don't be so maudlin. You and Dr. Keller could have a fine future together."

"Really?" McKay says in a surprised voice, "I didn't realise anybody knew..."

Beckett rolls his eyes. "Trust me, everyone's noticed. She's a lovely girl and I'm happy for you."

In the gate room, Sheppard watches his people moving out the last of the supplies. Then the last of the civilians go through. Late, McKay comes rushing in. "Rodney. Where've you been?"

"I wanted to make sure they got everything from my lab, then I had to, uhm, double check my quarters again because I couldn't remember where I'd put my sun block and allergy medication..."

"Rodney! Earth is right on the other side of the gate - even if you did forget something? You can replace it when you get home."

"Oh. Right. Well. See you on the other side then." He quickly moves through without a further word.

Wolsey takes one last look around the central tower. "I think Dr. McKay is expressing what everybody's feeling today. Reluctance to leave the wonder and beauty of a place one has called home for so long."

"Nah, he just doesn't like to travel," Sheppard deadpans. "After you, Mr. Wolsey."

Wolsey hesitates, "As head of the expedition, I feel I should be the last to leave..."

"It's not a sinking ship, Wolsey. Military protocol says the commander of the base - which is me - is responsible for turning out the lights, making sure the stove's off and locking the door." He understands Wolsey's disappointment. "Tell you what - we'll step through together. How's that?"

Wolsey nods appreciatively. "Thank you, Colonel." They turn toward the Stargate, side by side.

"John, wait!" Both men look back in surprise. Ville seemingly flows down the stairs from the control deck. "I need to speak with you before you go." The men exchange glances.


	3. Mr Wolsey Goes To Atlantis

From the beginning, the balance of leadership in Atlantis evolved out of a struggle between civilian and military authority. The brief command of Colonel Samantha Carter - a scientist as brilliant as McKay and a comanding officer whom Sheppard respected more than any other he'd ever had - unified the scientific and military facets of the expedition in one office for a short while.

Ville, a sentient creature of energy, arrived in Atlantis on Carter's watch. No one was quite sure what to make of her but Carter knew her capabilities and made use of them. If Carter trusted her, Sheppard had no problem accepting her. McKay was won over instantly by Ville's interest in his work uncovering the secrets of the Atlanteans.

During an emergency, a cascading systems failure destabilised the city's power source : a single Zero Point Module, a device that extracts energy from a small contained portion of subspace. Ville's role during the crisis was to power the city's systems directly, including the Stargate, allowing them to safely remove and dispose of the damaged ZPM.

Atlantis was built to be powered by three such ZPMs; the expedition had only the one. The scarcity of these power sources, created by the Ancients over ten thousand years ago, left Ville as the de facto power source for the city.

When Wolsey informed Carter she was being reassigned and that he had been chosen to replace her, she assumed he'd been fully briefed by Stargate Command. Stargate Command assumed Carter would brief Wolsey on the power situation.

In his first official week on the job, Wolsey set himself a goal to schedule every member of the expedition for an interview, to take their measure as it were. The coy young woman with the enigmatic smile crossed his path in the halls several times; he merely smiled and nodded. Eventually he'd see her across his desk when her turn for review came.

In the meantime, he was having a little difficulty adjusting to the city's workings. Things the other inhabitants seem to handle naturally were awkward for him. The lights in his quarters would turn off at inappropriate times. Automatic doors failed to open and close for him as they should. When he used the transport system, he did not always arrive at his intended destination. At first, he would have a laugh at himself about it.

After several weeks, however, he began sniping about his technical difficulties to various personnel. He received little sympathy but began hearing a name. 'Oh, you should talk to Ville; she can fix that.' 'Just have Ville adjust it for you.' 'Ville might know, you should ask her.' He feigned recognition and re-checked the personnel records. He'd studied these files in detail before his arrival but there was no one named Ville amoung the members of the expedition. Maybe it's a nickname. Or possibly an elaborate prank or hazing - Wolsey knew he was not an entirely popular figure. Casually asked questions and fishing for details while trying to hide his ignorance soon turned into a game of "Where's Waldo?"

Most of the civilians seemed to know who she was but did not know a lot about her. Some of the military personnel said they didn't have that level of security clearance. McKay and Zelenka reacted as if Wolsey were having a bad joke on them. Major Lorne referred Wolsey to Colonel Sheppard because Lorne didn't think _Wolsey_ had the necessary level of clearance.

Wolsey, ready to admit defeat, finally swallowed his pride and headed off to find the Colonel. Just then the coy young woman fell into step beside him.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Wolsey," she smiled brilliantly, "Looking for Colonel Sheppard, are you? He's on the East Pier, playing golf. I can show you the way if you like."

He demurred, "Thank you, but I think I can find the way."

"Alright then." She peeled off to join Teyla and Ronon down another hallway. As they receded from him, he heard Teyla greet her, "Good day to you, Ville..." and realised, he'd just dismissed the person he was looking for. While he debated whether to go after them, the doors of the nearest transport opened. Colonel Sheppard looked out, puzzled.

"Ah, Colonel, I was just looking for you-."

"That's weird."

"What is?"

"This isn't my stop."

"Oh. It's good to know it's not just meó."

"No, I mean, this never happens." Sheppard activated his comm, "Sheppard to McKay. What're you and Ville doing with the transport system?"

Wolsey pointed over his shoulder, "Actually..."

 _"Nothing. Why?"_

"It just sent me to the wrong place."

 _"Weird. That never happens."_

"That's what I said," the Colonel used his emphasized-patience voice.

 _"Are you sure you touched the right place on the map?"_

"Yes. Rodney. It sent me to the wrong stop."

 _"Huh. Okay, we'll run a diagnostic. McKay out."_

Sheppard gestured to Wolsey, "You should come, too."

Wolsey joined him, "So Ville works with Dr. McKay. Knows a lot about the city, does she?"

The Colonel gives him an odd look, "You could say that," wondering what the hell was with everybody today. He touches the control tower on the transport's map. When the transport opens again, they are in the control tower. "What do you have, Rodney?"

McKay gestures, walks and talks all at once while leading the way to the conference room, "Ville's already re-checking it. It's quite puzzling actually, we couldn't really find anything wrong..." The door panels open for him automatically. Sheppard follows and Wolsey manages to slip through as they begin to close again. He huffs and straightens his uniform jacket.

The coy young woman that he now knows is the enigmatic Ville sits on the table. Only now she seems older and not so coy nor cheerful. "Gentlemen. Thank you for coming." Her tone is chilly.

Sheppard takes a wild guess, "There's nothing wrong with the transport system, is there?"

Clueless, McKay responds, "I told you that never happens."

"Now, see here, young lady-," Wolsey steps forward.

She interrupts him. "So. Now you have time to speak with me, Mr. Wolsey."

"Uh-oh," McKay mutters. Sheppard shares McKay's sneaking suspicion, "What seems to be the problem?"

Without taking her eyes off Wolsey, she says, "I know everyone in this city. Work well with each of them. There is mutual respect and even admiration."

Wolsey tries to reassert control of the conversation but Sheppard takes his elbow. "Ville, would you give us just one minute?" He steers Wolsey a few steps away, a symbolic gesture to allow Wolsey to save what little face he has left. "You do know who she is, right? Tell me you know."

"What do you mean? That she works with the city's support systems? That doesn't excuse unprofessional conduct or bad behaviour."

Sheppard rubs his face. "She doesn't just work _with_ the city's systems. She _is_ the city's system. What you see there is an avatar."

"An avatar? Of what?"

"Okay, long story short : her father was an ascended Ancient. He created these three...children of pure energy. She's one of 'em - an independent, self-aware entity who happens to have saved our asses last year. Didn't you read the report?"

Wolsey pales at the thought that he may have offended an Ancient, "No one briefed me..."

"Never mind. I'll introduce you. Just be polite and apologetic." Sheppard steers him back. "Ville, this is Colonel Carter's replacement, Richard Wolsey from the IOA. Mr. Wolsey, this is Ville. She keeps the city systems powered and monitors the safety of everyone on the base."

McKay adds enthusiastically, "Oh, she does _way_ more than that. She monitors the planet's atmosphere for anomalies that might affect the city - planet-wide hurricanes, marine quakes, that sort of thing. Oh, and she can track objects beyond the solar system, augmenting the long range sensors. It's quite fascinating, actually, you see-."

Ville lays her hand on McKay's arm affectionately. "That's high praise coming from you, Rodney, thank you."

"Oh. Well, you're welcome." He starts to leave then turns to add, "You should see her sift through the databases, it really is amazing..."

Sheppard uses his _listen-to-your-elders_ voice, _"Rod_ -ney."

"Yes, yes, well, if you'll excuse me, I have work to do." The door panels open and close for him. A thought occurs to Wolsey. Pointing at the doors, he asks, "Did you-?"

"Yes, I do that, too. You may have noticed, Dr. McKay has two speeds : fast and faster. And he doesn't always look where he's going nor care what's in the way."

Sheppard asks, "Wait a minute, you open doors for _him_?"

She counters, "And when have you ever had to wait for flight clearance from the jumper bay? I like doing little things for each resident of the city to make them feel at home, safe and welcome," she throws Wolsey a glance then quips to Sheppard, "God is supposed to be in the details after all."

"So _you're_ the reason my lights have been going off and doors close in my...face...," Wolsey sputters, "How rude!"

Sheppard mutters, "Politely-"

"Rude? You arrived unannounced and have been walking around my city for weeks without so much as an introduction."

"Your city? Now see here, I am in charge! There was a memo!"

"Yes, you left it on my server!"

" _Your_ server?"

"The safety of this city and its residents are my responsibility; I am a Guardian..."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold up there," Sheppard breaks in with his temper-soothing voice, "He hasn't read the file yet."

"What file?" Wolsey demands.

Sheppard uses his _I-can-shout-louder-than-you-so-don't-even-try_ voice, "The file I'm gonna ask General O'Neill to grant you temporary clearance to read."

Hotly, Wolsey answers, "I assure you, I have the highest level of security clearance. I have total access to everything related to the Stargate program and the SGC."

"No. You don't," Sheppard settles his hands on his hips in a matter-of-fact stance.

"What could possibly be higher than 'Above Top Secret' clearance?"

"I'm not at liberty to tell you - you don't have the necessary clearance," Sheppard switches to his _if-you-keep-asking-stupid-questions-I'm-going-to-have-to-shoot-you_ voice.

"What?"

Ville inserts herself into the conversation again, "Oh, come on, John, that's just a bit of 'Who's on First?' Even I wouldn't resort to that."

"First of all, 'Who's on First?' is a classic." Sheppard waggles his finger at her.

"Please stop before you embarrass yourself. Again," she teases him. "Now, Mr. Wolsey. You are in charge, I presume, of the expedition personnel, yes?"

Wolsey answers emphatically, "Yes. Yes, I am."

"Good. I am in charge of the city. For all practical purposes, I _am_ Atlantis. You and the members of your expedition are my residents."

Sheppard whispers to Wolsey using his _trying-vainly-to-lighten-the-mood-since-you're-probably-a-little-freaked-out-right-now_ voice, "She's sorta the Home Owners Association."

Ville nods. "And you, sir, have moved in without being properly vetted."

Pale, Wolsey turns to Sheppard. "What is that supposed to mean?"

Sheppard grimaces, "You should probably keep your dog out of her yard."


	4. Until The End Of Time

"John, wait!" Both men look back in surprise. Ville seemingly flows down the stairs from the control deck. "I need to speak with you before you go." The men exchange glances.

"Alone," she states, looking at Wolsey.

Sheppard shrugs and shares a chagrined look with Wolsey who has the grace to capitulate. "Well. See you on the other side, Colonel. Goodbye, Ville."

"Tell 'em to hold the door open for me." Once Wolsey is gone, Sheppard turns to Ville. Frowning, he says, "That disconcerted look on your face is, well, disconcerting. What is it?"

She cautions him, "If you step through the Gate, you might not make it to the other side."

"Come again?"

"I'm sorry, John...I should've told you sooner." She indicates his body then her own. "This is a construct, an avatar, like mine."

"Hold on. What are you talking about?"

For a moment, he doesn't think she's going to answer. As she hesitates, he feels an enormous sorrow, "John, you _died_. On your last off-world mission."

Confused, he recalls, "Oh, right. Beckett mentioned you guys lost me a coupla times during the surgery...," he stops as she shakes her head. "No?"

"No," she explains gently, "When the Gate opened, I felt Rodney's distress. I reached out to see what was wrong and...you reached back. Your consciousness."

 _"This is Stargate Command calling Atlantis. Colonel Sheppard, come in, please."_

Stunned, he activates his comm. "Stargate Command, this is Sheppard. Stand by." He deactivates it. "What did you do?"

"Your body died on the way to the infirmary but I thought Carson could save your life if I helped by sustaining your consciousness. The physical damage was too excessive, but...I let him think that we saved you. In post-op, I...dispersed your physical body and helped you shape this avatar to hold your consciousness."

Memory stirring, Sheppard thinks back. "You mean...that actually happened? I thought I was hallucinating."

Urgently, she adds, "You may not be strong enough yet to sustain it on your own. Once you go back to Earth and the wormhole closes, I won't be able to help you."

"So what you're saying is if I go back to Earth, I'll...what? Dissolve? Disappear?"

She shrugs helplessly, "Your consciousness might continue. Or your energy may simply dissipate. You have a strong will, that's what gives you your facility with the Ancients' technology."

"Maybe, but I can't do what _you_ can do," he points out emphatically.

"I'm sorry, I just don't know. I thought we would have more time, that you would grow stronger, that I could teach you..."

"Don't take this the wrong way - I prefer being alive to being dead - but why would you do this?"

"Because they needed you, John. You were their Protector. Their Hero. And when I felt you reaching out - you were so strong and determined. How could I turn you away? Maybe I interfered when I shouldn't have, I'm sorry," she apologises again, "but you have a choice to make."

Quickly he says, "Really? The wormhole closes in...less than 20 minutes. That's not a lot of time to make such a big decision. And frankly, I'm not too crazy about my options." He begins pacing furiously.

 _"Atlantis, this is General Landry. What's the holdup, Sheppard?"_

"Crap." He gazes at her for several seconds then continues pacing, thinking quickly. She's genuinely remorseful and he can't really fault her for saving his life. "Stargate Command, this is Sheppard. There's been a slight change of plans, General," he pauses, "I'm staying behind in Atlantis."

 _"Negative, Colonel. Atlantis is decommissioned."_

"With all due respect, sir, Atlantis doesn't actually belong to us so...technically she can't be decommissioned. I can't really explain, but the thing is...I can't return to Earth."

 _"Son, you do realise once the gate closes, Atlantis' address is going to be locked out of our dialing computer."_

"Yes, sir, I'm aware of that - it was my idea."

 _"We can't afford to send a ship to Pegasus just to pick you up."_

"No, sir, it'd be a waste of fuel."

 _"So unless there's a compelling reason why you can't, I am ordering you to step through that gate. Now."_

He takes a fateful step. "General Landry, sir, I hereby resign my commission in the United States Air Force," he turns toward her. "Effective immediately."

 _"Sheppard, this is McKay. What's the problem? Maybe I can fix it from this end."_

His voice softens imperceptibly, "Rodney. This isn't something you can fix, buddy." He glances at his watch to see how much time is left. "Ville has invited me to stay and I've decided to take her up on the offer."

 _"What? Sheppard, are you nuts? Why?"_

"I can't explain why." He resumes pacing, torn about the decision he's making. "Look, we don't have a lot of time left, Rodney. I just wanna say...I was proud to have you on my team...and...you've been a good friend. And I know I'm not supposed to tell anybody what I found out about the future...but I'm pretty sure you and Dr. Keller have a shot. So, take care of each other, okay?" The radio is silent for a moment.

 _"John. Are you sure?"_

Sheppard uses his _don't-get-mushy-on-me-but-thanks-for-caring_ voice. "Yes, Rodney, I'm sure."

 _"Oh. Well then. It's been an honour, I guess."_

Sheppard can hear the tremor in his friend's voice. "You, too, buddy. Stargate Command, this is Atlantis signing off." He removes his ear piece and nods to Ville.

She closes the wormhole and powers down the Stargate. The two of them - remaining in the gate room of a vast, majestic, empty city in another galaxy - seem very small.

"Now what?" He tosses away his comm in frustration.

She smiles wanly. "Letting go is a good start." He follows as she walks out onto the nearest balcony overlooking the city and the ocean.

"Okay, but I gotta warn you, I'm not very good at the meditating thing."

"Meditating?" she echoes.

Intuitively, he offers her his memories of the six months he spent trapped in the Ancient's sanctuary with their descendants, contemplating Ascension. "I got the relaxation part down...I kept falling asleep," he adds sardonically.

She looks askance at him. "Okay. No meditation. Got it."

"Well, I know the meditating is part of the process...I'm not saying I won't do it, just that I'm not very good at it, that's all."

"If it doesn't help you to learn, then why do it?" she challenges him.

Taken aback, he says, "To ascend to a higher plane...that is what you want to teach me, right?"

Ville realises he needs to begin his lessons right now. "John, what does 'Ascension' mean to you?"

"The shedding of the physical body to become pure energy."

She tries not to smile as she points out, "You're already that."

Doubtfully, Sheppard concedes, " _Riiight_...but I'm still here," he looks over the ocean struggling to reason it out, "because...?" He concentrates. "The last mission. Teyla and Ronon - they were cut off from the gate."

"When you reached out to me, as you were dying, it wasn't because you were afraid of dying, John."

"I wanted to go back for them."

"The will was powerful but the body too weak."

 _Uncomfortable images begin to stir in his mind. Getting shot, going down. Ronon and Teyla covering Rodney. Rodney dragging him out of the kill zone, shouting histrionically. Lorne's voice over the radio demanding their position._

 _Breaking the event horizon._

 _Rodney barking, 'We need a medical team here!' Then, 'I got a pulse!'_

 _'That's great except he's not breathin', doc.' Lorne starting chest compressions._

 _A sensation of being carried through the air. 'Where's the medical team?! We need a gurney. Damn it, Sheppard, don't you die on me!'_

 _Dark hallway. 'Hang on, sir, you're gonna be alright.'_

 _Bright lights. 'We'll take it from here, Major, you and your men need to wait outside.'_

 _Lorne hesitating, 'Do what you can.'_

 _Confusion. Watching Carson perform surgery. Thinking 'who's hurt?'. Ville who looks directly at him, 'John. You have a choice to make. Stay or go.'_

 _Feeling heavy. Struggling to open his eyes. Everyone is gone except Ville._

 _Ville in the white place. Light, nothing but light._

 _The heaviness returning. Noise hurting his ears. It's the sound of blood surging through his veins._

 _Wolsey saying, 'How is he?'_

 _Ville saying, 'He's a survivor. He'll fight his way back.' Her hands float over his forehead and torso, guiding and shaping._

"Whoa. I thought that was just the drugs Beckett gave me," Sheppard gasps, a little freaked out, "So, what you're saying is, I'm not capable of keeping my atoms in one basket by myself?"

"That's putting it rather oddly."

"You know, when McKay's brain got supercharged by that Ancient gene therapy machine, his choices were ascend or die," Sheppard paces out of habit, "because he was still alive. If I'm already...dead, my choices are ascend or...what?"

"Or will yourself to continue existence on this plane."

"I can do that? What about...?" he points vaguely upward.

Coldly, she replies, "I don't answer to them; I don't see why you should have to," then her demeanor softens. "You're a good man, John. I have faith in you."

Doubtfully, he says, "Well, isn't that nice?"


	5. A Sort Of Reunion

The Athosian village grows with every passing day. Teyla Emmagan's people prosper once again despite living in the shadow of the Wraith civil war and the departure from the City of the Ancestors by the Earth humans.

Her friend Ronon Dex has chosen to settle with her people. His home world of Seteda was devastated by the Wraith long ago and remains deserted, the few Setedan survivors scattered across the galaxy. His choices were to go to Earth with his friend Sheppard or to New Athos with his friend Teyla. He felt he might be more easily accepted on New Athos than on insular Earth.

His first contribution to the community was the buildup of the village's defenses, much to the chagrin of the elders who argued it was useless against the Wraith and intimidating to friends coming to trade with the Athosians. Ronon's curt response was, "The Genii" - a technologically advanced people who were not above seizing resources they needed from others rather than trading fairly for them.

Ronon is helping chop wood for cooking fires and building material when Teyla calls his name. "You need to come see this," she informs him. He drops everything and follows her to the western palisade, drawing his weapon. "There," she points, "coming out of the trees."

"I see 'em. Just the two? Any idea who they are?"

"It is difficult to tell at this distance but...they seem familiar and that one is armed."

The strangers may be too far away for facial recognition but Ronon never forgets a weapon. He breathes, "No way."

"It's John." They break cover and walk out to meet the visitors.

"Ronon! Hey, buddy, oof!" Sheppard gasps as Ronon grabs him in a bear hug. "Good thing I don't need to breathe," he mutters.

"You're back!" Ronon roars joyfully.

"Carson, it is good to see you again," Teyla greets the doctor.

"Hello, luv. I thought I'd drop by to see how you and the wee baby are doin'."

"We are doing quite well. Thank you," she beams. She faces Sheppard and places her hands on his shoulders. They briefly touch their foreheads to one another's in the formal Athosian gesture of friendship. "It is good to see you as well, John."

"Likewise," he grins at her then wisecracks to Ronon, "but we didn't expect to find you here, Chewie."

Ronon asks, "When did your people come back? Where's McKay?"

"Well...they haven't actually. Carson and I stayed behind. It's a long story, two long stories, actually."

* * *

The four of them return though the gate together. Stepping into Atlantis, Sheppard announces, "Home Sweet Home. Just like you remember, isn't it?"

"Sure is quiet," Ronon remarks warily.

"Aye, that's takin' some getting used to as well. Would you mind helping with these sample cases, son?"

"Sure, doc."

"We'll meet you guys in the mess hall," the Colonel calls after them. "So, it's like you never left, right?" He heads toward the armoury to stow his gear.

"I agree with Ronon; it is rather quiet. And lonely, I should imagine," she trails behind him, gazing up and down deserted hallways. "Is that why you invited us to come back with you?"

"What? No. I mean, well, sorta. Look, I know you've got Kanaan and your baby and your people on New Athos, but I thought you might want to visit once in awhile. Ronon, too." He secures his weapon and equipment then changes into his casual uniform shirt.

With raised eyebrows, she asks, "You still wear your uniform?"

"It's comfortable," he insists defensively. "Besides, what should I be wearing? A suit and tie?"

"John, what is going on here?"

"I'll tell you over lunch," he assures her.

* * *

"If you're dead, how come you're eating?" Ronon asks matter-of-factly.

"I'm not dead dead. Food has energy in it - they're called calories. Tell him, doc."

"Believe me, I found it difficult to fathom myself. Especially since I was certain he was alive when I left him in the infirmary," Beckett empathises with Ronon and Teyla. "But it's true, the Colonel here no longer requires a physical body."

"See? Now do you believe me?"

"No."

"You want me to prove it?"

"Yeah."

"Okay. I will." They follow him out onto the patio. Teyla asks, "John, what are you going to do?"

Sheppard smirks confidently, "Watch this." He swings himself over the rail and into the air.

"John!" Teyla shouts. She and Beckett rush over. Sheppard turns and asks, "What?"

Wide-eyed, Teyla whispers, "This is...incredible."

Beckett stares at the pier seventy-odd levels below, "Oh my."

Ronon walks casually over to join them. "Wow."

"Wow? That's all? Just 'wow'?"

Ronon shrugs. "Cool."

"This is _way_ cool."

"Colonel, how exactly are you doin' that?" Beckett asks.

"Well...the molecules in the air. I still have mass but I transferred my weight into the air beneath me. That makes me lighter than the air."

"What's holding the heavy air up?" Ronon asks.

The Colonel gestures below, "The rest of the air."

"So the light air is holding up the heavy air and the heavy air is holding you up? How come the heavy air doesn't sink into the light air?"

Sheppard uses his _I-know-this-is-weird-so-I'm-prepared-to-be-a-little-patient_ voice, "There's more of the lighter air than there is of the heavier air. Besides, it's only temporary." He sprints and vaults over the rail. "See? I have weight again and the air molecules are back to normal."

"And Ville did this to you?" Teyla asks, iron in her voice.

" _For me_. She did it for me," he corrects her. "Apparently I was too stubborn to 'go gently into that good night,' so she helped me do this."

"Where is Ville by the way?" Teyla crosses her arms and raises an eyebrow archly.

He concentrates, "Uh, she's...stress testing the power conduits."

"You mean running a diagnostic?" Teyla presses him.

"No, I mean literally," he circles with his hand, "running through the conduits. You know we were only here five years and what with the Wraith and the Replicators and the Genii there wasn't a lot of time to do serious maintenance. Now we have all the time in the world." He seems pretty pleased with himself until Ronon starts to shake his head. With chagrin, Sheppard adds, "And Carson & I go offworld sometimes. He...doctors and I...gather intel."

"So you planning a mission?" Ronon asks hopefully.

"No. Not yet. I just like keeping up with current events."

"Shouldn't you already know?" Ronon persists in taking the wind out of Sheppard's sails.

"I'm not _omniscient_." Before Ronon could ask, Sheppard adds, "I don't know everything. Look, I appreciate you guys' concern but I'm not going all dark side or anything."

At the end of the day, Ronon chooses to depart with Teyla, saying he would consider Sheppardís invitation to take up residence in Atlantis once again. Carson runs tests in his lab on the blood samples heíd collected amoung the Athosians. John considers going for a swim. Instead he decides to walk through the city ñ there are many sections the expedition never explored. Of course, itíd be even more fun if Rodney was here.

"Ville, where are you?" She appears in step beside him. "You missed Teyla and Ronon."

She apologises, "I was preoccupied."

"You've been preoccupied, no, dare I say, restless for weeks, relatively speaking. If anybody should be going stir crazy, it's me. What's going on?"

"John. I've been delegating a lot of tasks to you but I need you to take on more, at least temporarily."

"Sure. I'm happy to pull my share of the load; it keeps me on my game."

"Actually, I need to leave the city. For awhile."

"You're not just bored," he guesses.

She sighs, "No. I think something's happened in the Milky Way."

"Earth?" Sheppard comes to sharp attention.

"Maybe. It felt like a ripple through spacetime."

John scowls. "Wouldn't it have affected this galaxy, too?"

"It likely did, just a small enough difference as to make no difference at all. Events in Pegasus are not as interdependant with the events in the Milky Way as they used to be."

"But you think something's not right on Earth."

"I need to go, John."

"Sure. How much time...nevermind, it's all relative. We'll keep a light on for you."

She smiles. "Remember : no wild parties while I'm gone."

He smirks charmingly. "We'll try to restrain ourselves. No promises though."


	6. Tempus Fugit

Sheppard decides to go diving under the city down to its lower hull - the exterior of the city's star drive.

John Sheppard has always possessed a natural feel for piloting - planes, helicopters, anything that goes faster than 200 mph. His first spaceship was an Atlantean transport he'd jokingly dubbed a "puddle jumper." Not as sexy as an F302 or even an F16 - more like a station wagon really - but responsive like, well, like college girls on Bourbon Street during Mardi Gras. Pilots talk about "strapping on" their planes, but the Atlantean ships become extensions of their pilots' will. The more a pilot can open and focus his mind, the more he can do with the ship. The ship's subsequent performance is a direct expression of the pilot's skill. And John Sheppard is a very, very good pilot.

The Atlantean warships, _Aurora_ class, were also amazing to behold and to fly but the city herself is an enormous craft that is at home on land, at sea or in space.

He's only flown her once, under less than ideal circumstances, from one solar system to another but the power had taken his breath away. The city's long range sensors became his senses. The city's computing power was instantly at his disposal - ocean currents, wind vectors, solar flares, asteroid field density, planetary rotation, orbital trajectories, atmospheric analysis, shield strength, power distribution, untold variables and bytes condensed into the essential answers he needed to know in an instant : _Can I do this? Will this work? How much stress can the city's structure take during re-entry?_ It was a mind blowing experience.

Now, in the dim murk of the ocean, is the first time he's seeing the city from beneath. The massive hyperdrive engines hang above him. He'd actually felt it when _those_ marks there had been scored on the engine housing. He decides that one of his benchmark goals during his development will be to repaint Atlantis' undercarriage. Without lifting her out of the water. That'll be a cool trick.

 _"Colonel Sheppard, this is Doctor Beckett."_

His manipulates the city's comm system to turn his thoughts into a response. "Yeah, doc, I hear you."

 _"I'm all set. If you wouldn't mind dialing the gate?"_

"Sure. You know, Carson, you don't actually have to call me Colonel anymore." He visualises the symbols on the DHD lighting up as part of the dialing process.

 _"Oh. Of course. Well then. John."_

"Travel safe now. I'll dial back in twelve hours to check on you."

In his mind's eye, the wash from the Stargate illuminates the tower's interior and Beckett steps through. Sheppard wonders again what would happen if he tried to 'look' beyond the gate. Being conscious of two places at once is another of his benchmark goals. As the gate disengages, he realises he is in the gate room wearing a dripping wet suit and not in the ocean beneath the city anymore. "Damn it! I will figure out how she does that," he says out loud for the hell of it.

Drying himself by morphing his diving suit into his "off-duty" clothes, he pictures the chair room from which the city's star drive and defenses can be controlled directly. The chair no longer activates automatically when he sits in it, as it did when he was flesh and blood. Just a flicker of thought, however, is all it needs to register his presence. As the chair reclines, he rests his hands on the interface pads and closes his eyes. The city stirs. He can't actually talk to it; it's not intelligent like that. He feels the machinery and circuitry shifting from standby to ready mode.

 _'Have I always been able to feel this?'_ he wonders.

The first time he sat in an Ancient control chair, he'd called up a real time star map of the galaxy. He didn't know why ñ probably heard one of the scientists talking about it. Oh yeah, Beckett, instead of pulling up the star map, had misfired a drone that almost shot Sheppard's helicopter out of the sky.

Sheppard has only fired the star drive once, but the drones...he has fired the drone weapons many times. Distance, wind speed, turbulance, velocity, trajectory, striking, killing the enemy.

He doesn't think of himself as a bad man or a good man, just a practical man who gets the job done, no matter how distasteful, one way or another. He doesn't spend too much time regretting mistakes or decisions. What's done is done, fix it or move on.

He knows he's changed since he joined the mission to Atlantis. The civilians needed him because of a genetic marker which made him indespensible to their expedition. The superior commander on the mission didn't even want him there. Sheppard was the black sheep, the bad seed, a cocky son-of-a-bitch and a mighty awful pain in the ass. _'Kinda like Dad; now there's a frightening thought.'_

Given the throw-the-book-away nature of the mission - and the isolation from Earth - he was a natural fit and might have won the respect of Colonel Sumner in time. Giving the man a mercy killing on their first mission, however, changed Sheppard's whole outlook immediately. His decisions were no longer just about his own sorry ass. He'd had to step up, to take charge, to lead without sacrificing his unique identity. He'd learned to work with Dr. Elizabeth Weir, the original head of the expedition, rather than against her. The irony is that his dad probably would've been proud of him if he could've known. _'Then again maybe not.'_

With Colonel Carter, finally, he had a boss who understood the military side of the mission, a commander who was as used to thinking outside the box as he, dealing with the realities on the ground rather than rigidly following protocol. Sheppard had felt a little bit insecure and maybe even a little jealous - she was even smarter than McKay and _they_ had history. Sheppard made sure he walked with her every morning - sort of a mobile briefing - before Rodney caught her up in his latest _oh-I'm-so-brilliant_ idea. Funny, he'd hadn't realised how competitive he felt with McKay.

By the time Wolsey came aboard, Sheppard was starting to wonder if the IOA considered Atlantis nothing more than a leadership seminar. "It's a gate, not a revolving door," he'd grumbled to Ronon at the time. He'd commiserated with Colonel Caldwell, the commander of the _Daedalus_ , who once complained of feeling like nothing more than a glorified bus driver.

He relaxes into the chair. He wonders about the future. He needs to choose a path, right? So, what are the possibilities?

 _(As he lay dying in the Nevada desert, his life's blood slowly leaking out from his side, he looked up at the stars and wondered what the hell else was out there.)_

He smells smoke, hears the crash of falling debris and the popping of flames. Is that a '77 Camaro? I always wanted one of those.

 _('You know, I once met another version of you.')_

'Whoa. Oh, this is way cool.' His consciousness expands, looking for other versions of himself from other universes :

 _The John Sheppard who became a cop in Sin City after being drummed out of the service, hates the politics of his job and is this close to being on the take. What could be easier? Just take the money and leave town, right? Don't look back._

 _The John Sheppard who served a sentence in Leavenworth and received a dishonorable discharge. A sociopath misdiagnosed as a paranoid schitzophrenic. A small time con artist with a taste for wealthy matrons._

 _The John Sheppard still in command of an Atlantis base, in orbit about Earth, defending his homeworld from a Wraith attack, landing the city off the coast of California in international waters._

 _The John Sheppard who buckled under his father's will, entering the family business after college. Three ex-wives and seven kids later, he has a top-shelf drinking problem and resents the hell out of his brother who left home and is free to do whatever he wants with his life._

 _The John Sheppard who became a model career Air Force officer, teaching at the Academy. Likes Ferris wheels, import beers, surfing, skiing and flying or driving anything that goes more than 200 m.p.h. Looking for a soul mate. Serious inquiries only please._

 _The John Sheppard who graduated college summa cum laude, interned in the family firm before striking out on his own, marrying his high school sweetheart and raising their two beautiful girls for whom he would do anything._

This is what he needs, he decides - a mission, a job to do. What could be easier than straightening out his other lives? Endless possibilities...but how far should he go? Fix everything or just one thing? What if they don't need anything fixed - how can he tell? Who the hell is he to decide anyway; it's not his life. Well, actually, they are his lives - aren't they?

No wonder the Ascended don't want to deal with this plane of existance anymore. How could he possibly decide what's right or in the best interest of other people if he can't even figure it out for his other selves? Yet being who he is, how can he not try to help others if it were in his power to do so?

"How does she decide?" he murmurs. Slowly opening his eyes, he sees a billowing luminous mass - what is that - the moon? No, a cloud.

 _(There's no clouds in my desert.)_

A face in the cloud. "Ville?" he ventures.

 _She reaches down..._

'Not-Ville.'

 _...touches his forehead..._

He breathes, "The city. Atlantis."

 _...places her hand on his chest._

 _His breath slows._

 _She bows her head._

 _He hears her speak but her lips do not move._

 _'Time to release your burden, Shep-pard.'_

 _(What could be easier? Just take the money and leave town, right? Don't look back.)_

"No. No," he repeats firmly, "I can't. I won't. At least...not now."

"Colonel, are you alright?"

Sheppard sits up abruptly, the chair returns to standby mode. "I just had the weirdest dream." He turns to the person who woke him. "Carson," he jumps out of the chair. "What happened? Did something go wrong?"

"No, no, everything went well, thank goodness."

"Then what are you doing back here so soon?"

"So soon? Colonel - John - I've been gone almost 36 hours."

"What-?" Sheppard scowls at the chair as though it were to blame. "That's not-," _(nevermind, it's relative)_ , "acceptable. I was supposed to check in on you. I'm...sorry."

"Oh, it's quite alright. The experimental vaccine appears to be working in some of the children although we need long term studies to confirm any efficacy, but I'm hopeful." Sheppard nods but appears not to be listening. "Are ya alright, son?

"Yeah, it's just... I don't understand what happened to me - how time could just slip away like that."

"Maybe you should rest," his doctor advises him.

"Yeah, that sounds like a good idea. Thanks, doc."


	7. A Thought Exercise

In his old quarters, he lays on the bed staring up at the ceiling, remembering an encounter with an A.I. taking the form of his deceased nemesis, the Genii commander Augustus Kolya.

 _("As a soldier, you are a threat...the military man, so I connected with your mind to distract you...I didn't have full control over your hallucination or the direction it took. It was your mind driving the diversion. I merely played along.")_

Was it true? Had he imagined himself being physically beaten by an enemy he knew was dead? His arm cut off? Nearly falling to his death? _Did I really torture myself like that?_

 _("You torture yourself every day, John. But in this case, it was your mind manifesting your own darkest fears.")_

What of the other entity, a parasite, borrowing his own image and invading everyone's dreams, feeding on their worst fears? _And when it was my turn..._

("Get up. Come on, John. FIGHT!")

 _Could I have stopped fighting - even surrendered - if Rodney hadn't gotten to me? Would I have let that thing kill me?_

("It's your fault Heitmeyer's dead! It's your fault McKay is dead!")

 _That's really my worst fear, isn't it? That I'll fail to rescue someone else I actually care about?_ Elizabeth - lost, dead. Aiden Ford - gone, MIA.

Rodney. _I talked a man into sacrificing himself in a horrible manner to save McKay's sister, for God's sake, because I refused to let Rodney choose._

Teyla. She had been taken. He couldn't allow himself to think he wouldn't find her and her unborn son. _How far would I have gone to get her back?_

 _("Look, Teyla. You, Elizabeth, Carson, Ronon and even Rodney - you're the closest thing I have to family and I would do anything, even give up my life like Ronon was going to, for any one of you.")_

"John. Why are you doing this to yourself?"

When he opens his eyes, night has fallen and three of the five moons are visible in the sky. "We never did name this planet, did we?"

"No, you didn't."

"You're here."

Ville smiles, "Yes, I am."

He rolls up onto his elbow and scrutinises her, "But you're not back."

"Not yet, but I'm on my way. And I'm bringing a friend."

"Really? It's a good thing I cleaned. Who is it?"

"That's not important right now. John. What were you doing just before I appeared?"

"Exercising a little introspection, I suppose."

She kneels near him to gaze into his eyes, as if she were examining his soul. "So many scars."

"Yeah, well...scars are good. Means the wound's healed."

She shakes her head sadly, "Not always."

He breaks eye contact and sits up hunched over with his arms wrapped around his knees. "I guess I'm just not finished 'releasing' my burden."

His words settle into silence.

In wonderment, she says, "You have no idea, do you? How respected and admired you are. How they looked to you for leadership, direction, hope. How safe you made them feel - knowing Colonel Sheppard was out there, defending Atlantis, keeping their enemies at bay."

Resentfully, he says, "I didn't do it alone. I'm not a hero."

"Heroes are fashioned by those who perceive them. You weren't always alone, true, but you're the one they looked to. Especially your team. You miss that don't you?"

"I can see Ronon and Teyla anytime I want. As for Rodney, well," John shrugs, "I guess I kinda, maybe, miss him. A little. Not much," he insists.

Ville smiles warmly. "Did you know you bite the inside of your lip when you're nervous or worried?"

His eyebrows rise, "Hmm?"

"That's your tell. No wonder you're lousy at poker," Ville teases him gently, handling his ego carefully.

"Am _not_. I was just...thinking. About...you know, stuff."

"I see." She considers her words carefully. "Introspection is a valuable tool, but like many tools, it can also be a weapon. You could do some serious damage."

"Well, no pain, no gain," he demurs gamely.

"There are other ways to contemplate one's existence. Let me show you a less painful exercise."

"Okay. What I do first?"

"Meet me in the chair room."

She dims lights as he relaxes into the chair again. "Imagine a map of the universe. Zoom in on Earth's solar system in the Milky Way. Now think of a place on the Earth where you could still see sky and stars."

"The desert," he murmurs.

"Picture the time and place of your birth."

"L.A.? You can't see the sky from L.A."

"You can," she reminds him as he builds the hologram of the night sky. She adds symbols to the display. "What do you see?"

"A bunch of squiggly lines - what are those? Ancient hierglyphs?"

"Stylised symbols for the planets, Earth's moon and the sun. Then these symbols are the ancient demarcations of the eliptical plane..."

"You gotta be kidding me. This is the most advanced piece of technology my people have ever discovered and you want me to draw my horoscope with it?"

She uses her _don't-be-a-silly-boy_ voice. "A horoscope is a superficial piece of pop psychology published for entertainment purposes. _This_ is a thought exercise. The Babylonians, the Egyptians and the Greeks - Manilus, Ptolemy, even Plato amoung them - put a lot of thought into this system. It's based on the experience and observations of human behaviour over millenia. The city's computer cores will help with the calculations..."

"Calculations? Can't I just visualise it?"

She chides him, "What part of 'thought _exercise_ ' confuses you? Now, rotate Earth to 10 a.m. Pacific, please. We need the meridian. Now the horizon."

"This isn't even realistic - the constellations are out of whack because of the Earth's precession," he says in his _holy-crap-how-did-I-know-that_ voice.

"What part of ' _thought_ exercise'...? It's not a depiction of reality, John, it's an analogy of the human psyche."

"Oh really now? All I see are a bunch of dots splayed all over the ceiling."

"Yes...the groupings are small, irregular and scattered about. This is the chart pattern of someone highly individualistic, who strongly dislikes the rigidity of routine or discipline. The placement of the planets tells us he's more outgoing and adaptable than he is inflexible. The Greeks assigned the elements to the various signs - this chart is heavy with earth and water signs."

"Earth and Atlantis?" he ventures skeptically, almost facetiously. No, _definitely_ facetiously.

"A coincidence and a little too simplistic to boot. No, the philosophers associated the element of earth with practicality and stability, the ground beneath their feet. Water was associated with sensitivity and intuition - yes, even your 'Spidey-sense.' Now, the signs also alternate between positive and negative." She highlighted the differences.

"I'm not that negative," he protests.

"Relax. That's an indication that the traits associated with those planets tend to be expressed more introvertly than extrovertly." She carries on explaining the symbology and how it tells the story of his people and of the ancient Earth's civilisations that contributed to the system.

"Now calculate the angles between these bodies and/or points on the map. Keep any with angles of 180 degrees, 90, 45 or 30. Interesting."

"What?"

"What do you see, John?"

"A bunch of lines criss-crossing the room. Although they _do_ seem to be ganging up on this guy over here." He illuminates the symbol for Saturn and immerses himself in the numbers. "Whoa."

"There's a lot of opposing tendencies, John. And that 'guy' over there is one of the heavy hitters - I dare say _he_ is the one looming over the others. He represents stability, control and limitation. It's almost as if he's trying to impose order on the rest of the pattern."

"So he's a control freak - hey, I am _not_ a control freak," he protests.

"No, but you do play things close to the vest, don't you? This planet," she points, "next to it and the pair across from them are all heavy hitters. The opposing pair, Uranus and Pluto - no jokes, please - together are a disruptive, even destructive change. Perhaps your decision to join the Atlantis expedition."

"I thought that decision was based on my preference for extremely remote places," he uses his smarmy voice.

"Ah, that would be the Ascendant sign - nothing to do with the Atlanteans," she uses her _don't-interrupt-this-is-the-good-part_ voice, "Here on the horizon - Aquarius rising. Strong desire for independence, a willingness to sacrifice in order to get it and keep it. The military gave you that option, eventually, which is why you love your job so much. May have contributed to dissonance leading to the divorce. So tell me, why did you leave home at fourteen?"

Distressed and uncertain, he doesn't answer for awhile. "It's complicated," is all the answer he's willing to give.

"Fair enough. You mentioned the discrepancy between the traditional signs and the real time constellations? This isn't a predictive model either. It's designed to make you think about yourself as you are and as you can be. The ancient peoples of Earth believed the stars as depicted on these charts would would suggest the roots of their problems as well as point to opportunities for change."

"Developing and using resources to capitalise on situations that may present themselves. Seems kinda obvious."

"Very good. They teach you that in officer school?"

"Spring break in Cabo." He furrows his brow. "Or was it on leave in Jakarta?"

She laughs merrily. "I am going to leave you to this. We'll be arriving soon."

"Okay...," he acknowledges absently. He's already calculating progressions, relocations and trying his hand at building a similar system in the Pegasus galaxy based on the "local" mythology, cultures, customs, etc. catalogued in the Ancients' database...


	8. Whatever Happened To Cameron Mitchell?

_(I've got one but you're not gonna like it! It'll take us to 1929!)_

 _(Well, we don't have much of a choice, do we? Just do it and get over here, Sam!)_

That was when Sam died. Jackson was already dead.

 _(Teal'c! Cover me!)_

It was awkward; his arrival through the Stargate scared the crap out of some bedouins camped near Dr. Langford's archaeological dig but he's just glad the solar flare sent him to the Egyptian gate rather than the Antarctic gate. Worse, he could've arrived a few days ago, before they'd dug up the one in Egypt. That would've been a fast end to the mission.

His name is Lt. Colonel Cameron Mitchell, formerly the leader of Stargate Command's team SG-1. His mission is to lie low for the next ten years and intercept the Goa'uld System Lord Ba'al before Ba'al destroys history as Mitchell remembers it. By the time he makes his way from Africa to Newfoundland to Boston, the Great Depression is full on and Mitchell blends in easily with the great unwashed masses.

He considers trying to earn a berth on the _Achilles_ as soon as he arrives, but Sam was right - Cameron is a real life grandfather paradox waiting to happen. His grandfather is captain of the _Achilles_.

For income, he works around the harbor when anybody's hiring, otherwise he takes odd jobs in the city for room and board. One day, as he's cleaning the floors in a soup kitchen, a society lady enters.

"Good day, ma'am," he greets her cheerfully. Something about her seems vaguely familiar. "Father O'Brien is in the back. If you like, I can tell him you're here."

With a twinkle in her eye, she dismisses his offer, strolling past him. "Actually, I'm here to see you, Mr. Kirk."

"Excuse me? I'm sorry, ma'am, I believe you have me confused with someone else."

"Do I?" she turns back toward him gracefully. "Tell me then, what is your name, sir?"

"Cameron." She cocks her head waiting. He adds, "Shafton. Cameron Shafton."

Slowly, langorously, she repeats it, "Cameron Shafton. Interesting. Did you know that the thirteenth century artisan Al-Jazari used camshafts in the engineering of his water clocks?"

He laughs politely. "No, I did not. That's very interesting."

She winks, "Maybe you can win a bar bet with that sometime."

Mindful that Prohibition has only been abolished a few years, he answers, "I'm not much for drink, ma'am."

"Not even a beer? Oh, and I was so hoping you'd join me for one."

He indicates the mop and his own attire, "That's a kindly offer, Miss...?"

She extends a gloved hand, "Evans."

"Miss Evans," he wipes his hand on his dungarees before taking her hand with a slight bow, "but a fellow like myself is surely no company for a fine lady such as yourself."

"Why you flatter me, Mr. Shafton. I can't fathom why you would prefer to sit through a preacher's evening fire-and-brimstone sermon eating cold beans again rather than having a hot meal, perhaps a glass of port by a warm fire, enjoying witty repartee about...clocks. And the future."

"The future?" He puts on a puzzled expression. "I'm afraid I don't understand, Miss Evans, and I really should..."

"Call me Ville, please. I'm talking about your future, Mr. Shafton. I'm talking about a job more suitable for someone with your talents."

"A job?" He ponders where he knows that name from. "What sort of job?"

She raps her handbag against his chest, "That's the spirit. I'll send a car for you 'round about 6 o'clock. See you then, Cameron." Approaching the door, she looks back at him, "I really am looking forward to it."

To himself, Mitchell mutters, "Now that is one weird chick."

When he asks Father O'Brien about the visitor, the priest crosses himself. "Aye, she's one of them Luna Foundation people."

"Luna Foundation?"

"Oh and sure they help with the poor and homeless but I don't hold with 'em. There's something just ain't roight about 'em."

Knowing he shouldn't get involved, Mitchell's curiosity gets the better of him. He racks his brain for every history course he's taken and book he's read. When it comes to history, he's very careful. Ville Evans - the name was itching in the back of his mind something awful.

The car is a 1923 Rolls-Royce Springfield Silver Ghost Oxford Tourer. Mitchell recognises the model from the Blackhawk Auto Museum in Danville, California where he saw it as a child. The driver takes him to a house on Louisburg Square in Beacon Hill ñ one of the most affluent neighborhoods in Boston.

"I am seriously underdressed," he murmurs to himself as the valet opened the car door.

"Welcome to the Luna Foundation, sir. Right this way." None of the servants give him a second look, as if people like him were chauffuered and welcomed here everyday. A maid shows him the way to the "salon" where a small group of people were gathered for pre-dinner cocktails.

"Cameron! I am delighted you could make time for me. Come, come!" She takes him around the room and introduces him to everyone. "And last, but certainly not least, this is Emory Witherspoon. Em is the Director of the Luna Foundation's Boston house."

Mitchell shakes the man's hand then liberates a glass from a tray of drinks presented by a serving maid. He listens to the socialite chatter and wonders what the hell he's doing here. The surroundings are embarrassingly lavish - antiques, art, even a suit of armour in the damn corner.

Dinner proves to be surprisingly informal - the men removed their jackets - and the talk more interesting, including some discussion of Dr. Langford's excavation in Cairo.

"Curious artifacts."

"A stone ring?"

"The Cairo House has yet to identify the type of stone used. It may even be some sort of metal."

"The fossils found underneath are most curious. Have you seen the photographs yet?"

Fortunately (or maybe not), the conversation moves into other equally odd topics - poltergeists, seances and demons. He thinks maybe Father O'Brien was right to shun these people.

After the coffee and cognac, Ville slips her arm though his and steers him into the hallway. "Emory has kindly donated his private office for our discussion."

"Discussion? Really?" He walks into the office - more like a study - while she locks the door. "Is that what we're calling it?"

"Why, of course, sir." She seats herself, "I wouldn't dream of taking advantage of you, Colonel Mitchell."

He continues studying the momentos on the walls and the desk. "Sorry, what?" he asks as if he hasn't heard. "Oh," he chuckles, "I'm not in the Army, ma'am."

"Of course not. You're in a branch of service that won't be enacted by Congress until after the next war, say, another 10 to 15 years. And your last assignment, another fifty years after that. Am I right?" She waits patiently while he considers how best to deflect her.

"You really think there's gonna be a war? The Germans aren't just posturing?"

"Mitchell, you know what's about to happen. What are you doing here?" she persists.

He laughs in protest, "I think you must have me confused with a Captain Mitchell. People say we look a little bit alike."

She loses her patience with him and stands abruptly. "Mitchell, Cameron, Lt. Colonel, United States Air Force. Recruited for Stargate Command to test fly the prototype of the F302. Flew in the battle against Anubis over Antartica. Last assignment - SG-1. Just so you don't think I'm a flake, I served briefly with SG-1 under General Hammond's command and I know that he would _never_ send SG-1 back in time unless it was damned important, son, so you tell me right now - what the hell are you doing in 1936?"

Mitchell remembers his academy days and what it felt like to be bawled out by his instructors. He resists the temptation to salute. Instead, he walks toward the window, thinking furiously.

"Sounds like a great script for one of them new moving pictures. This, ah, what did you call it, Stargate command? What did you say the leader's name was?"

"General George Hammond. He's from Texas."

He ventures, "I heard he retired."

"Then I guess Jack is in charge. _He's_ crazy enough to try something like this. Or did he finally retire, too?"

He lowers his voice, putting steel into it, "Alright, who are you and how do you know what you know?"

Ville stares at him incredulously. Sighing, she says, "My code name is Ville. Have you never read the file, man?"

His expression turns to one of surprise. "I knew that name sounded familiar! Of course, I read all the mission files, as soon as they gave me command."

"You're leading SG-1?" she says doubtfully.

"Hey!"

"I meant, why not Sam?"

"She turned it down, went to Area 51." Then Mitchell hits a wall emotionally and backs away from her. "Sam is dead. Jackson is dead. Teal'c stayed behind to cover me; he's probably dead, too. I'm the only one who made it through."

Stunned Ville sits down again. "Oh, my god." She's been through one Daniel Jackson's death already. Gently, she presses him to answer her question, "What is the mission, Cameron? Why now?"

"The timeline's been altered. Unless I fix it, the Goa'uld are gonna arrive in about seventy years and Earth will have no defenses because in 1939, Ba'al is going to sink a ship, _Achilles_ , transporting the Stargate from Egypt. Langford can't afford a recovery attempt. Roosevelt figures whatever it is, it's safer at the bottom of the Atlantic. He has other things on his mind."

"Ramping up production to take America into the war."

"In this timeline's future, the Air Force doesn't see any point to recovering the gate either until the 11th hour arrives. We put together a plan but it went south so we had to improvise. The closest Sam could get us...me...was 1929."

"I'm sorry, Cam." Ville closes her eyes and sends up an earnest prayer for his team - his Sam, Daniel & Teal'c. "You have no support or back-up. Even if you're successful, you'll still have a life in this timeline to live out."

"What're you talking about? Everything should go back to the way it was."

"If you're successful, yes, it will. But you, right here, right now, will still be living in your own past. You'll still be out of time. And still dangerous."

"I'll succeed. For Carter, Jackson, Teal'c, hell, even Valla."

"Who?"

"Never mind. It's a simple ambush and I have the element of surprise. As for history, I've been laying low since 1929. Don't worry about me."

She shakes her head. "Let me help you. The Luna Foundation is a front for a secret society. We can provide you with cover, take you out of mainstream society, minimise your impact on history."

"You want me to go ghostbusting with your friends out there?" he asks skeptically.

"We have resources, connections all over the world. We can make sure you get on _Achilles_ when the time is right."

"This isn't my first covert mission," he says firmly. "I've spent the last seven years preparing for it. It'll go off. Trust me."

"It's not a matter of trust. What are you going to do after the mission?" She sounds as if she already knows what he's thinking.

"I'm still considering options," he answers evasively.

"I can't allow you to run free in history. For instance, joining an infantry outfit, getting youself killed in Europe? Your training itself is an anomaly. Suppose you save someone that was meant to die? Or kill someone who was supposed to survive to kill someone else? You'd endanger the timeline you're trying to fix."

He gripes, "Suppose I kill the butterfly that was going to flap its wings and cause the hurricane that destroyed Galveston?"

"Don't be ridiculous. Galveston has already happened."

"I know that," he snaps, "My point is, I'm already here and I plan to make as little difference as to be no difference at all in the grand scheme of things. Other than killing Ba'al and a few Jaffa and dumping their bodies in the icy North Atlantic." He walks to the door, "Now if you'll excuse me, I'll be going. Thanks for dinner."

"Mitchell." His shoulders sag heavily. She tells him, "When you need someone to talk to, you can find me here."

He stares at her a moment longer than he meant to. "Thanks."

The next time she sees him is four years later, early 1940, in Boston Harbor. _Achilles_ was originally scheduled to arrive home two weeks ago. Instead she'd been diverted to the Naval shipyard in Norfolk.

Rumours were flying. The ship's appearance, finally, at the docks adds fuel to the flames; she has a huge steel patch welded in place with shiny new rivets on her starboard stern just above the waterline.

Each version of the _Achilles_ story is sensationalised and championed by a different newspaper of the day : she'd been boarded by privateers; had hit an iceberg; been torpedoed by a German U-Boat. One paper, claiming to have an anonymous source amoung the crew, reports a witness to the events disappearing right off the ship. Another paper claims that according to its anonymous crew member, the Navy removed a certain cargo in Norfolk. Wild speculation about said cargo erupts.

Ville takes in his demeanor and appearance - the lines on his face, a well-worn pea coat, slightly fraying cable sweater and a light beard. Quietly she says, "You look tired." He merely nods and allows her to lead him to the car.

The car arrives back at the Boston House without its passengers.


	9. Soldier, Sailor, Tinker, Tailor

The sensation of going through an event horizon without a gate strikes him as weird. Then the vast interior of the tower appears.

"Atlantis," Mitchell surmises. His previous visit was of short duration but he instantly recognises the design and architecture. Old habits die hard; he quickly assesses the situation : The Stargate is without power. The sky is visible through the windows which means the city is on the surface. The city's shield doesn't appear to be raised. The control room is deserted. "Where is everyone?"

Ville explains, "In this timeline, the IOA has cut funding and Stargate Command has recalled the expedition."

"What about the Wraith?"

"Civil war. After the Replicators were defeated-"

"Replicators?"

"-the hives that are left split into various factions again, fighting over feeding grounds and other dwindling resources."

"All the more reason not to leave Atlantis undefended. They should've at least submerged it again."

A male voice calls out from behind him. "They didn't need to. Hey, I remember you. Mitchell, right?"

"Technically, I'm not in the Air Force anymore, Colonel Sheppard," he extends his hand, "so, just Cam."

Sheppard shakes his hand, "Well, technically, I'm dead, so just John."

Puzzled, Mitchell asks, "You mean Earth doesn't know you're still here?"

"Oh, they know. That's why I'm not a Colonel anymore," he smirks. "Pissed Landry off pretty good, but what are they gonna do? They've got the Ori followers to worry about. Speaking of which," Sheppard throws a meaningful glare Ville's way while asking Mitchell, "Why aren't you on Earth?"

Balefully, Mitchell says, "I probably am. At least I hope so." He turns to Ville for an answer. "Did it work?"

"Everything unfolds as it should."

"That's not an encouraging answer."

"Cam, every choice creates a new timeline. The possibilites are infinite. This may not even be the timeline you just left."

Sheppard grumbles, "I hate time travel. What the hell happened to you, Mitchell?"

Mitchell gives him a synopsis of the mission. Then he voices his most immediate and paramount concerns. "I could use a shower and a shave. Got some place I can clean up?"

"I think we have a few vacancies. How about an ocean front view?"

"John, when he's done, ask Carson to take a look at him."

"O.K. What are you going to be doing?"

"Making sure you cleaned your room while I was gone," she teases then disappears.

Mitchell didn't even see a transition. There, not there. "You _are_ gonna tell me what's going on here, right?"

"Relax. I'll tell you everything you want to know. Come on, it's this way."

* * *

"Good god, man, your lungs look like you've been breathing soot."

"That's the Industrial Revolution for you," Mitchell rasps. He likes Doctor Beckett, even if he does have a little trouble understanding his accent.

Sheppard assures Mitchell, "You get used to it."

Beckett is confused, "What's that, John?"

"Oh, nothing, doc, don't worry about it."

"Well, Cameron, I should have some results for you in a few hours but if you have any difficulty breathing let me know as soon as possible."

"No sweat. Thanks, doc."

Mitchell is a little too pollyanna farm boy for Sheppard's taste but brings a good balance on their forays through the gate. He's looser and more outgoing than Sheppard, willing to carry the conversation but not as loquaciously as McKay. Tactically, they are of a mind, requiring minimal communication in a tense situation or during a firefight.

Of _course_ Sheppard introduces Mitchell to Teyla and Ronon. The guy has some great hand-to-hand skills but still, Sheppard thinks, it was pretty funny to watch Ronon kick his ass in a friendly - well, maybe not so friendly - sparring match. It was even funnier when Teyla did it. Mitchell's gameness and humilty in the face of defeat won him a small measure of approval in their world.

Teyla was gracious enough to ask Mitchell to teach her the fighting style he learned from some crazy uber-warrior sect of Jaffa called the Soodan. When Ronon jumped on the Soodan wagon train, too, Sheppard felt a twinge of jealousy but quickly dismissed the feeling as impractical.

"Well?" Ville asks.

Sheppard reluctantly admits, "I don't _not_ like him."

"He's not Rodney."

"Obviously," he retorts, "but Rodney and I didn't have anything in common - he was annoying, obnoxious, vain, egotistical..."

"How many times did you save Rodney's life?"

"Plenty! More than I should've had to!"

"And how many times did he save your life?"

"A few, I guess." He stops pacing. "What are we arguing about again?"

"How to be Succesful and Make New Friends," she retorts as he rolls his eyes, "I only asked how you and Mitchell are getting along."

"He's okay, I guess. He insists on telling these stories that he actually thinks are funny. And if he keeps going on about his grandmother's macaroons, I'm going to shoot him."

"Hey! What's up?" Sheppard turns away, chagrined, as Mitchell enters the conference room, still drying his hair with a towel.

Ville impishly replies, "Hey! We were just talking about you."

Sheppard gives her an evil look.

"Uh-oh," Mitchell hops up on the table. "What'd I do?"

"Nothing!" Sheppard insists in his _I-doth-protest-too-much_ voice, "Look, it's not you, okay? It's me. Let's just leave it at that."

Mitchell asks Ville, "Is he breaking up with me?" Ville fails to stifle a laugh.

Sheppard wags a finger at her, "This is not funny."

"Come on, John," Mitchell glances at Ville, "it's a little funny."

"Just a little bit," Ville agrees.

Sheppard huffs irritably, "I don't need you to psychoanalyse me. Today. I mean, not today. You know what I mean."

Mitchell pours on the Midwestern drawl, "Ville, what did you say to get this boy all riled up like that?"

Ville bursts out giggling, "I only asked how you were getting along. I swear, that's all!"

"You know what? Go ahead and laugh. Both of you. I'm going golfing." With that Sheppard strides out of the room.

"Without so much as a how-do-you-do," Mitchell cracks. "Seriously. What's his problem?"

"Besides being anti-social? He misses Rodney. Whether he wants to admit it or not."

"I don't get it. Why don't you just send him back to Earth?"

Ville turns serious. "Because he's not ready."

"You know, I'm not one to throw stones but that man may have some serious emotional issues."

"He knows that, Cam. Which puts him one step closer."

"Closer to what?"

"Knowing."


	10. Interlude

Less than ten years later, Cameron Mitchell, formerly of Earth, died of lung cancer due to his exposure to heavy industrial pollution during the 1930's. To honor his sacrifice, Sheppard buried him at sea.

John sits brooding on the pier, nursing a six pack. He inventories his recent losses :

Mitchell dead.

Beckett caught up in a Wraith culling, presumed dead.

Teyla died of natural causes - a rare thing amoung her people - on New Athos, surrounded by her family and friends, including his miserable self. He should have spent more time with her family. He is a stranger on New Athos. Oh, they all know him, they just don't _know_ him.

Ville calls to him. _'How are you?'_

"Feeling sorry for myself. What else is new?"

 _'Is there anything I can do?'_

"You can join me for a beer if you like."

She appears gracefully seated beside him. He hands her a bottle and watches her flip the cap over hand with a bit of English spin. He grudgingly admits, "Nice technique."

"It's a great bar trick, too."

He chuckles. "I had a friend in college. She'd order one Irish Car Bomb and never had to pay for another drink the rest of the night."

"Because the guys like to watch her swallow," Ville purrs knowingly.

"She said it; I didn't. Didn't even matter what she ordered after that."

"Did you buy her a drink?"

"Yeah, but only because she bought me one first."

"You're such a feminist."

"Hey, I respect strong, forceful women. Except for the ones that threaten to kill me, have their guards beat me and torture me. Other than that..."

Ville smiles. "What about your mother - was she a strong woman?"

"I don't know. I don't really remember her." He finishes off his beer before uncomfortably volunteering more, "After she left, that's when Dad and I started butting heads. His idea of 'raising us' was to map out our lives for me and my brother and then expect us to follow The Plan. When I told Dad I was going to Standford instead of Harvard, that was a knock down drag out battle. I threatened to work my own way through a public college instead. When I enrolled in the Air Force Academy, he went ballistic - threatened to cut me out of the will, which apparently he did. In his mind, money solved all problems, but it couldn't solve me. I never went home again. Dave and I kinda patched things a little up after the funeral. Heavy damage. Kinda hard to undo."

"Yes, it is. Were you able to make your peace with your father?"

"I remember standing over his casket at the wake - I missed the actual burial to go chasing after a Replicator, off saving the planet, can you believe it? Anyway, I remember standing there thinking what could I have done different? Would it have mattered? Dave says Dad regretted what happened but...I don't know. I think that's what Dave wanted to believe."

She lays her hand on his back by way of comfort - he's not real big on comfort. He simply squints across the ocean toward the horizon. He always looks to the horizon.


	11. The Children Of The Wraith

Ronon receives some intel about the location of a hive ship. When they arrive in system, the ship isn't there but they detect Wraith life signs on the planet - a lot of them. Their recon of the area uncovers a facility of some sort. They land to check it out.

From a concealed position, they see what appears to be a holding pen, filled with several Wraith children. They are young enough to still require solid food.

Ronon indicates his preferred option is to kill them. Sheppard shakes his head and signals a fallback.

Under cover, Sheppard insists, "We are not going to kill a bunch of kids."

"They're Wraith. They're gonna grow up and murder humans. Can you live with that?"

"The objective is to take out the hive ship - and the adults. We do that and we'll have a few years to test the retro-virus on these kids before they mature enough to feed on humans."

"Sometimes I just don't get you."

When the hive ship arrives, they cloak the jumper to get into the dart bay, set some C4 with a timer detonator and depart undetected.

"Why are we going back to the surface?" Ronon asks.

"Something doesn't feel right. Why not raise their young on the hive ship where they're better protected? That facility has no defenses - no weapons, no shield. Something else is going on down there. I want to check it out again."

Returning to their previous position, they hear screams and howls.

"What the hell's going on in there?" Sheppard asks.

"What's the plan, Sheppard?"

"The ship's about to blow. Hopefully that'll draw them away. We'll take out any stragglers and then go in."

Suddenly the sky erupts into plumes; debris rains down from orbit like a silent fireworks show without any color. Most of the adult Wraith take off in their darts. When Sheppard and Ronon storm the place, they find and shoot two adults. There a few, smaller, dead bodies around. The Wraith have fed on some of the kids.

Even Ronon found the scene a little disturbing. "What kind of intelligent species eats their own young?"

"A starving one. One hive, no allies, unable to defend their feeding grounds?" He tries to communicate with the surviving children who shrink away in calm terror.

"The darts are coming back," Ronon reports.

"Alright, let's set up a crossfire around the entrance."

"You're kidding, right?"

Ronon is right to question him and Sheppard knows it. "They're just kids, Ronon. I count eight darts. How much ammo do you have left?"

"I counted nine. Still got a full charge."

"Good. After we shoot the first few, they're gonna fall back and try to wear us down."

"We could be here awhile. You sure it's worth it?"

"Maybe. Depends on how much progress we can make with the retro-virus in the next few years."

The standoff starts out the way Sheppard predicted. The Wraith walk into the kill zone unaware and lose two right away. Several exchanges of fire take place. Two more Wraith fall. The others retreat and regroup. Finally, under cover of darkness, one of them outflanks Ronon, wounding him before Ronon squeezes off the fatal shot. Sheppard lays down covering fire but another Wraith gets through the kill zone. Ronon manages to take that one out while Sheppard nails a third. The remaining two retreat to their darts.

Sheppard drags Ronon into the jungle. He tries to stop the bleeding but Ronon has lost much already. Sheppard assesses the situation. With Ronon injured, it's too far to the jumper, even if they weren't pinned down by the darts. He clears his mind and tries to think...of healing his friend, focusing as hard as he can. Helplessly, all he can feel is Ronon slipping into an unconsciousness from which he will never awake.

Late in the night, the two Wraith give up searching for them and head back to the facility. Sheppard destroys the darts on the ground, then hunts down the pilots. When it is finished, he returns Ronon's body to New Athos to be buried near Teyla.

For reasons he doesn't want to admit, he heads back to the planet. When his jumper exits the space gate, he finds a rival hive ship in orbit. They've got parties on the surface. Dreading what he will find, he goes down to observe.

He watches them slaughter the rest of the children and leave.

Once they are gone, he is able to survey the grotesque scene in detail. Every one of the children has been fed upon. "What kind of intelligent species consumes their own offspring?" he repeats.

In despair and anger, Sheppard begins burying the bodies. And giving them names - they deserve names. Using his knife, he scratches the names onto stones he uses for grave markers. Since he no longer requires sleep or food, he digs and carves unceasingly until the last Wraith child is in the ground.


	12. A Stitch In Time

When darkness falls, he begins a vigil in the oppressive humidity of the jungle to keep the scavengers from disturbing the remains of the Wraith children.

Every day, she has been calling out to him.

 _'John. Where are you?'_

He never responds. Detached, he inventories his emotional state : post traumatic stress, shock, numbness, indecision, seconding guessing his actions and decisions, unable to formulate his next course of action. His biggest fear.

In time, the graves subside and one day the call changes.

 _'John. Come home.'_

Closing his eyes, he pictures his quarters in Atlantis. By the light of two moons, she waits for him.

"I don't want to talk about it," he says reflexively. But she doesn't need words and somehow that makes it easier. He opens his mind to her, showing her everything he's struggling with ñ the loss of his friends, the slaughter of innocents, his mistakes and screwups, his emotional isolation.

The last fear, the last burden boils to the surface. He resists giving it expression. He senses that Ascension is possible for him, he's close, he can feel it. Freedom from this plane of existence. What would it be like to be completely free? Free to do nothing? Free to stand by and watch and do nothing? His pain and rage continue to build - all he has to do is lay them to rest.

The words grind out, "I can't. I won't," and he shuts it all back in its box and locks it down. Sadly but not regretfully, he avoids eye contact, "I'm sorry. I know that what's you wanted for me."

"No, John," she reaches out to touch his cheek. He flinches unconsciously. "I'm not your father. I can only hope to help you find what you need."

Something rips open inside him. Like a gunshot. Like being gutted. Like dying and dying without end. He tears the room apart. He needs to something to hold onto, physical contact. He kisses her. She gently touches his pain, not to rid him of it but to share it with him, to comfort him. His pysche hemmorages all the dark and luminous emotions he keeps in check. Fear. Despair. Aspiration. Ambition. Loneliness. Hope. Regret. Hunger. Sorrow. Love. Rage. Doubt. Lust. Thirst. He retreats into the tactile distraction of sex without consequence, devoid of any emotional attachment.

Eternal unconditional acceptance. He can feel the bottomless depth of her patience. Whatever he decides, whatever he does. She'll always be here. She'll always challenge him. Always.

 _'Don't lose yourself in me.'_

Pain and rage - these he owns, these he acknowledges as an integral part of himself. It's not Ascension that he needs. It's Transcendance. He can accept that. A calm settles over him. He feels her wiping the moisture from his face. He can't remember ever crying in his life. Ever. Not once.

 _'John. You have a choice to make. Stay or go.'_

In the Gate room in the tower, these two who remain seem very small indeed. The event horizon shimmers.

 _('Stargate Command, this is Atlantis signing off.')_

He grabs her wrist. 'Why are we here? I mean back here, in this moment?'

Her answer is simple. "You needed more time."

Angrily, he demands, "Are you saying everything that's happened...didn't happen?"

"It did. From our perspective, over forty years have passed since we were last in this moment."

"So if I were to go through that gate, there'll be another Mitchell but he won't remember the last ten years."

She shakes her head, "No. He won't."

"I hate time travel," he grouses. "Wait a minute. I can go through the gate? Without you?"

"Well, I should hope so, you've had forty years of practice."

"Yeah, but that was just in Pegasus...never mind, I know. It's all relative." He gazes around the tower then stares at her.

 _(She'll always be here. She'll always accept him no matter what.)_

He glances at the gate. "What about you?"

"What about me?"

"I know you've got the whole communing with the universe thing going on but itís gotta be tough for you. You'll essentially be all alone here, stuck in Atlantis."

Coquettishly, she says, "You forget. I have a star drive."

Enlightened, he answers, "And I know how to fly it."

"Yes, you do." She slips her arm through his as they walk to the chair room. "In fact, I have a few options in mind. Tell me what you think of these. Pacific Ocean, off the coast of California."

"In international waters, of course."

"Yes! Exactly. Or the Southern Hemisphere."

"Near, oh I don't know, Australia maybe?"

"Let me guess - Surfer's Paradise."

"Well, you know how much I love surfing."

"Or," she pauses significantly, "Antarctica."

"Snowboarding, skiiing, penguins. Antarctica's covered by international treaties though."

"But Atlantis was built there. The U.S. knows it, the Russians know it. We can prove it if we have to. Europe wouldn't have a problem accepting it. China will need to be swayed but I think I can handle that."

"You do realise, I've never attempted to park this thing on the ground? I was lucky just to set it down on the ocean in one piece."

"I can help with that."

"Then there's the ice cap. We don't want to melt it faster than it already is."

"I've thought about that, too, and I have an idea that might allow Rodney to isolate the drive after we land and reconfigure it to emit cold rather than heat."

Excitedly, John says, "We could regrow the ice shelves! Lower the sea level a little bit, stabilise the ocean's conveyor belt."

"That will buy us a lot of good will with the people."

"The superpowers are gonna want a piece of this."

"Sovereignty."

"What?"

"You ever hear of a little state called Vatican City? Atlantis will do for science what the Vatican does for religion."

"You know you're kinda scary when you get like this," he jokes. "What about Carson?"

"He hasn't left yet - remember? He can be satisfied with less frequent trips to Pegasus as long as they're regular."

"Power for the gate's not going to be a problem?"

"Not with two of us. What do you say?"

"I guess it's Antarctica or bust then."

 _After ten million years, Atlantis returns home._


	13. Interlude 2

_En route..._

They meet in Heitmeyer's old office, using it to create the sense of a structured environment. They sit opposite one another in a calm pleasant setting with a low table between them.

"You say what you mean. Most people say one thing and think another."

"I do that, too. Sometimes."

"But in a calculated manner that indicates you don't really mean it. Some people, however, sometimes miss that cue. Unless you're really _mean_ about it."

He shrugs. "Not a lot of people get me."

"Why do you think that is?"

"Well, outside of work, I can't really talk about a lot of stuff. Not that that's a bad thing. I just, you know, don't have a lot to talk about."

"Not even with your friends, your team?"

"Well, that's different. They _get_ me. So. No need to really talk about anything."

"I see. You're a very private person for someone so outgoing."

"You say that like it's a _bad_ thing."

"Just contrary."

"I happen to think there's more interesting things to talk about than me. So what thought exercise are you going to torture me with today?"

"Errors in Judgement."

"All of 'em or just the top 5? One : trying out for the wrestling squad in high school - got my ass kicked. Uhm, two : marriage. We weren't prepared but then who is? I might have been selfish, distant, secretive - although to be fair to me that last _was_ a job requirement. I made her life miserable and she didn't deserve that," he confesses.

"Did you love her?"

After a quiet moment, he answers, "To be honest, I'm not sure. Maybe I was just in love with being in love. An error in judgement."

"Because you didn't know yourself."

"Next - and this is a big one - not killing Kolya when I had the chance."

"That's a regret."

"No. _That_ was a tactical error."

"You had good reasons for not killing him at that time."

"He was a proven enemy. He had attacked us twice. I had an opportunity to terminate the threat but I didn't. He was able to attack us twice more because I made a bad judgement call."

"He was a challenge for you. An interesting enemy."

"Enemies are not interesting. They're a threat."

"It was never about strength of arms. Two warriors, two brilliant minds in an epic struggle for dominance."

"He tried to kill me! _More_ than once."

"You tried to kill him."

" _He_ started it!"

"But you _didn't_ kill him then."

"Exactly and I expected brownie points for that. Instead he offers me up to a Wraith. Hence the error in judgement."

"The busted rescue mission in Afghanistan. Error in judgement?"

"No. I'd make the same decision in the same situation without hesitation."

"Tell me. Does it ever end differently, when you dream about it, I mean?" No answer. "When you do try to imagine it ending differently, is it ever successful?"

"That's a regret not an error."

"Any other regrets you'd like to share?"

"Not right now, thanks."

"Like not telling Teyla how you felt?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," he insists petulantly.

"Yes, you do."

"We worked together. She was under my command. It would've been...inappropriate."

"Was it inappropriate to express your feelings of friendship to Ronon? Or Rodney? They were under your command."

"I expressed friendship for Teyla, too."

"But not how you really felt about her."

"It would've been unprofessional."

"It's more than that, isn't it?"

"Okay. It's awkward. And uncomfortable. Kinda like now," he admits gruffly.

She watches him shift in his chair. "You are so intense and so focused. Even when you're having fun, you never completely unwind. For someone like that, losing control can be terrifying."

"It's not that I'm uptight," he complains, "I just don't like it when things don't go the way I think they should go."

"Exactly."

He glares at her suspiciously. "What's _that_ supposed to mean?"

"You're so sure of what's right and what's wrong. When you have it in your power to help someone, you'll do it. Yet you recognise that you can't impose your values on others. Neither can I. And if I have something you need, I will gladly give it to you. But you always have a choice, John, and right now, you need to make one of those choices."

"I've made my choice. We're on our way to Earth."

"What happens once we get there?"

"Well, you're the one with the big plans; you tell me."

"For you. What happens for you?"

"I hadn't thought of that." It's unlike him to be unprepared for a situation, even if the plan ends up being to just go with the flow. His self-confidence dips. "I don't know. The Air Force is out of the question. I guess I assumed I'd be staying in Atlantis."

"What's your level of expectation here, John?"

He grimaces at the reminder of his last confrontation with his brother. "Well, I'm not a scientist. I don't suppose you need a personal pilot?"

"You're being modest."

"Head of Security?" he ventures hopefully.

She laughs warmly, "You're doing it again." Self-consciously, he stops biting the inside of his lip.

"John, I can power the city, run the systems, monitor the research projects. I can relate to the public, calm their insecurities. I can charm the hell of the media. I can negotiate with the civilian governments but their militaries would be more comfortable speaking to one of their own."

"I kinda doubt I've got any juice with the Joint Chiefs."

"I don't mean the U.S. military. Hammond and O'Neill have the President's ear. You know, Kolya wasn't wrong about you."

"What does _that_ mean?"

"You are an exceptional soldier. You have incredible instincts. Atlantis still needs a commander. A position that requires long term planning, goal-oriented strategy, someone who's practical, logical, intuitive, dedicated."

"Yeah, but _you're_ going to be the face of Atlantis. You're the one with the vision."

"But I'm not human."

"Well, they won't know that."

"Yes, they will."

"Okay, so...we'll say you represent the future evolution of humanity."

"But I can't impose my values or my desires on humanity. Humans have free will, self-determination, choices to make. My father believed in that passionately; he surrendered himself for that belief. I can inspire. I can teach. I can guide, advise. But the choices are not mine to make."

"Well, they're not my choices to make either. What you're talking about is bigger than just one person."

"Every generation produces it own unique leaders. You have it in you to be one of those leaders, John. You understand the difference between command and motivation. Cooperation versus domination. Persuasion rather than oppression."

"In other words, the carrot and the stick."

"Trust me, you can be quite charming when you need to be."

He tentatively replies, "Thanks. I guess."

"But you have got to conquer this social awkwardness. You relate to the unfortunate, the underdogs, the innocent, the powerless. Fine, but stop denying that you come from a powerful wealthy family and use your knowledge of 'how the game is played' to get what you want for others. Take the high ground and hold it."

"Oh right, with the power and might of Atlantis behind me?"

"Leverage," she counters. "You're used to negotiating on behalf of Atlantis."

"Yeah, with less technological societies. This is _Earth_. Nobody's gonna be impressed unless we show them what Atlantis is capable of and I am _not_ firing drones on Earth-based targets even if we are attacked."

"I seriously doubt any state would be foolish enough, but if they did," she throws down the gauntlet, "surely you can hit a little ol' missile with a drone?"

That, honestly, had not occurred to him. Yet. He leans closer, accusing her in a low voice, "Now who's playing the game?" Slumped back in his chair, he stares up and out of the window at the illusion of motion through hyperspace, thinking and unconsciously plays with the cuff of his shirt. She sits in that unnaturally calm way of hers, waiting. Finally he sits up. "Look, what do you want from me?"

Smoothly, she moves to the chair next to him and lays her hand on his arm. "I want you to be the best man that you can be. I want you to be happy. I want you to do something you love."

He warns her, "That middle part might be tough."

"You could go home to Pegasus," she suggests sincerely, "New Athos."

Quietly, he says, "No. No, I can't do that," shaking his head. Facing her, his expression softens. "I need to be here. With Atlantis. With you."

 _('Don't lose yourself in me.')_

He continues, "Not because it's the safe thing to do. I want to be here. I belong here. This is the right thing for me to do."

"Welcome home, John Sheppard." They touch foreheads in the Athosian gesture of friendship.

He smirks, "Thanks, by the way."

"For what?"

He snarks, "For giving me a job, what else?"

She giggles. "No worries."


	14. My God, It's Full OfCake

Brigadier General O'Neill accepts an escort to what used to be his old office at the SGC. It now belongs to General Landry. "Hank. Came as soon as I could. What do we got?" He extends his hand.

They shake and head for the control room. "Jack, sorry to interupt your fishing trip but the _Apollo's_ sensors detected a massive object entering the solar system just beyond Neptune."

"Goa'uld? Ori? Klingons? What?"

"Bigger."

"Bigger?!"

"Bigger," Landry walks up behind the technical sargent, "Walter, put 'em on."

"Yes, sir, channel is open. Colonel Ellis is on the line."

"Abe, I have General O'Neill with me. Report."

 _"Sirs, sensors picked up the object about a day ago. It came out of hyperspace just inside the Oort cloud - definitely not a natual object. It's been manuevering, using gravity sling shots to work its way in-system."_

"Heading for Earth?" O'Neill asks.

 _"It's a possibility. We're moving out to get a closer look."_

"Abe, you picking up any chatter yet? Have they tried communicating at all?"

 _"No, sir."_

Landry defers to O'Neill. "Alright, check it out but don't get too close. How long before you can get a better read with the sensors?"

 _"About twelve hours or so."_

"Report back in six hours then. Stargate Command out." O'Neill straightens his back. "Feel like a game of chess while we wait, Hank?"

"Shouldn't you be briefing the President?"

"D'oh,"O'Neill grimaces. "Red phone still on the desk? It might not hurt to have a squad of F302 pilots suited up and ready to go. Oh, and recall the _Daedalus_ ; tell Caldwell to run some combat drills."

Six hours is long enough to fly Samantha Carter back from Area 51 to Cheyenne Mountain to look at the data. Mitchell meets her at the elevator. "Hey, Sam."

"Hey, Cam. When did you get back from Chulak?"

"This morning. Teal'c says 'hi' by the way."

"Indeed," Carter intones, imitating their friend affectionately. "So what's the latest on our visitor?"

"They're still out there sightseeing. My money says they're just tourists passing through."

Carter chuckles, "What are you basing that theory on?"

"It's a hunch. I think if they were spoiling for a fight, they would've brought it on already."

"Or they may be scoping us out."

The Colonels joined the Generals in the control room. "Just in time, Carter," O'Neill says whimsically.

"Sirs, we're receiving another data burst from the _Apollo_ ," Sgt. Harriman reports.

Carter watches the data feed until the transmission is complete. "Can you transfer that to my lab, please? Thanks." When she's got a few conclusions, she calls for a briefing in the conference room.

"I think I have a pretty good guess about what the object might be." She flashes a graphic up on the monitor. "This graph represents the energy readings the _Apollo's_ sensors detected from the object we've been tracking. This fluctuation here seemed familiar; it took me awhile to figure out why." She pulls up another graphic and places them side by side.

"The graph on the right is an item Dr. McKay included in all his monthly reports when I was in command of Atlantis. He always had a little 'to do' list of things he wanted to fix but they were never high enough priority. This particular analysis describes a tiny fluctuation in the city's shield emitters."

"They look the same," O'Neill ventures.

She confirms, "Virtually so, which suggests the object uses shield technology similar to Atlantis."

Mitchell pipes up, "What are the chances it's another lost city of the Ancients?"

"It's overall size and it's hyperspace capability support that hypothesis."

Landry counters, "Why wouldn't they have communicated with us already?"

Carter shrugs, "Could be any number of reasons - a malfunction or damage to their long range transmitters."

O'Neill adds, "Why would they be lolly-gagging around the solar system like that?"

Mitchell speculates, "If they've been in a firefight, they could have heavy damage." He stops as O'Neill gives him a look.

"I meant that rhetorically, Mitchell."

"Yes, sir."

Carter cues up another graph. "They're not actually lolly-gagging, sir. Here is the path the object has been following since it appeared in the solar system. Here, at Io, the object started an aerobraking maneuver which will put it on a trajectory toward Jupiter but not into a Jupiter orbit."

Mitchell snaps his fingers, " _2010 : A Space Odyssey_."

At the Generals' blank looks, he adds, "The movie. A ship on its way to Jupiter uses Io's atmosphere to scrub speed to rendezvous with an abandoned ship."

Landry asks, "Are you suggesting there's a ship out there we haven't detected?"

Mitchell shrugs, "Either way it seems like a hell of a coincidence to me."

"Yes, it would be but if it's not a coincidence, then I think I know who's flying it," Carter states confidently.

O'Neill asks archly, "Who?"

"General Landry, we're receiving a transmission from _Apollo_."

The monitor in the conference room comes to life. Ellis reports, _"The object just made a rapid course change, heading toward the Earth-Moon system. Shall we intercept?"_

O'Neill sorts through their options. "Do we know if they have weapons?"

 _"No, sir. We haven't detected anything to suggest their offensive capabilities."_

"Doesn't mean they don't have any," Mitchell says.

O'Neill agrees, "Try hailing them, _Apollo_."

Colonel Ellis' transmission includes a standard IFF - an identification of himself, his ship and planet of origin. Instead of an audio or visual response, however, they receive a text only reply in Ancient.

O'Neill asks, "How long to translate that?"

"Jackson's in Belize looking for some lost temple. We can get him on a video conference," Mitchell suggests.

Landry says, "Do it."

Once the connection is made and Dr. Daniel Jackson is located, he appears on camera hunched over against high wind and rain.

"Daniel. That's a lovely monsoon you're wearing."

 _"What? This old thing? Actually it's a hurricane seeing as I'm in the Western hemisphere."_

"Whatever. Did you get the message translated?"

 _"Yeah. Jack, is this some kind of joke? You interrupted my dig for this?"_

"What? What's it say?"

 _"See for yourself."_

Text appears on the display:

 _All these worlds are yours except Europa_

 _Attempt no landings there..._

 _Just kidding. ETA is two hours._

 _See you on the Dark Side of the Moon._

 _Sheppard out._

Carter smirks as Mitchell hands over a twenty dollar bill, "I gotta stop betting against you," he says.


	15. Opening Diplomatic Relations

Against the backdrop of the _Aurora Australus_ , the city of Atlantis descends, exciting the already spectacular display. Snow showers kicked up by the shield obscure the city somewhat. Sheppard sets her down south of the 80 degree latitude on the South Polar Plateau, framed by three fair sized mountains with one pier pointing in the direction of the South Pole.

 _"Nice touch that,"_ her voice relays down to the chair room.

"We might need the tourism revenue someday. Transantarctic Mountains not far from the Western pier and the Northeast pier will be a good jumping off point for treks to the Pole of Inaccessability."

 _"Wouldn't that be an oxymoron?"_

"We can always rename it. We good?"

 _"Lowering the pylons into the ice. They'll take about a week to completely secure the city."_

"We have pylons? I thought the city would just settle into the crater we melted."

 _"True but that crater is eventually going to fill in and refreeze. The pylons will keep us steady and level while that happens."_

"I guess that makes sense. Less power than using the inertial dampeners all the time." He deactivates the chair and joins her in the control room. "We should switch to the cloak on for now."

"Why bother? A pack of snow will form around the base either way."

"I'd rather not show up on the satellites. As for the snow bank, I don't think the penguins will mind and Stargate Command already warned the boys at Amundsen-Scott we were coming. I'll take a jumper over there in the morning to brief them."

"It's the dead of winter - how are you going to know when 'morning' is for those guys?"

"I checked. They're asleep." Before she admonishes him, he elaborates, "I detected a lot of REM activity which tells me most of the crew are asleep and the ones who are awake are on the graveyard shift. Okay? Why'd you bother teaching me these skills if you didn't want me using 'em?"

"I expect you to be less cavalier about using them."

"I'm not being cavalier. It's not like I messed with their dreams or anything." He assures her with a smirk, "I'm waiting for McKay to move back in before I try that."

"Don't make me turn this city around...," she threatens mockingly.

The initial impact of Atlantis' presence on Earth was epitomised by...the puddle jumper. Sheppard tours the outposts on the polar continent regularly, offering assistance - medical, shelter, resupply, search-rescue - if needed. _"Just meeting the neighbours."_ The neighbours accept Sheppard's assertions that he's _"test flying a prototype 'cargo box on Harrier jets', out of a newly established base - precise coordinates classified, of course."_

"They buy that?" Ville asks, "Seriously?"

 _"Of course - they're adventurers. For example, did you know those folks 200 klicks to the west on the other side of the mountains are testing new rovers for another Mars expedition? Fascinating stuff."_

"Let you play with their toys, did they?" she speculates while checking the sensors and monitoring his approach to the jumper bay.

 _"They even liked a couple of suggestions I had," he brags. "I promised I'd run some simulations and get the results back to 'em."_

"Well, right now our first guests are inbound from McMurdo. The IOA representative is, how did Jack put it, whining about having to come to the bottom of the world."

"Who, Wolsey or Bates?"

"No, the German. Unfortunately."

"Probably another paper pushing civilian. All yours."

They had decided to allow the helicopters to penetrate the shield and land in the designated landing zone on the East pier where the _Daedalus_ used to put down for repairs. Their guests who hadn't been to Atlantis before would be given a chance to realise the scope and grandeur of the situation and to hopefully take the opportunity to open themselves to extreme possibilities.

 _'Are you going to wear that?' she asks coyly._

He responds by changing from casual to a suit and tie. _'I can clean up nice when I want to.'_

Out loud she adds, "You might want to shave, too."

He scowls and volleys back, _'Did I miss a memo about a new dress code?'_ His five o'clock shadow disappears. "Is this just a meet and greet or are we negotiating anything?"

"I suggest we mingle and if someone makes an overture, we acknowledge, offer to consider, promise feedback but nothing more at this juncture."

"Nice wording. Can I borrow that?"

"Plagarise your heart out; there's more where that came from."

"Just hope I can keep the conversations separate."

"I'll go easy on you."

Sheppard mostly tunes out the flowery praise she showers on the Chinese premier and his wife, while he shakes hands with Generals O'Neill and Chekov. The amiable Russian introduces Sheppard to the Chinese Minister of Defense and his Supreme Military Commander (or some similar sounding title). Agent Bates, formerly of the Atlantis expedition now of the IOA's new investigative unit, introduces Sheppard to the heads of intelligence for Britain and France. Agent Barrett of the NID represents the U.S. Intelligence community.

"Welcome to Atlantis, gentlemen, glad you could make it. For those of you who don't know me, I'm John Sheppard, Lt. Col. USAF, retired. I enjoy a good cup of tea, ferris wheels, college football and anything that goes faster than 200 miles per hour. Who's got questions?"

General Chekov jumps in first, "Are you able to speak for Atlantis?"

"Short answer, yes. Long answer, I'm kinda like a CEO, if you will; Ville would be the President."

The head of MI5 jokes, "Or a Prime Minister and the Queen."

O'Neill offers, "More of a Princess Di. The press is gonna _love_ her."

The Chinese Minister challenges, "There's speculation that Atlantis will be petitioning the U.N. for recognition as an independent state. Yet you have trepassed on territory which by treaty belongs to all nations of this planet."

"That was the attraction - we appreciate the international presence on the continent. I've met some _really_ nice folks out here," Sheppard replies amicably, "but our petition will, of course, include supporting evidence that Atlantis is merely reclaiming its territory."

"No doubt referring to the Ancient outpost," the Frenchman says approvingly.

"Well, we have the matching chair; it'd be a shame to break up the set."

The Russian belly-laughed, "Sheppard has good point. Russia is prepared to endorse Atlantis' petition in the General Assembly."

 _'Accept that! The Chinese Premier is leaning in our favor, as well.'_

Sheppard inclines his head, "That's very kind, General. Please convey our appreciation to the people of Russia."

In no time at all, the vodka, Glen Livit and an Athosian wine are broken out to lubricate the wheels of 'diplomacy.'

Afterwards, Sheppard confesses, "I did promise the Japanese ambassador a case of the Athosian wine. He says it's better than saki."

"An intergalactic vintage - man has taste," Ville jokes. "I can't believe Yuri jumped in and commited Russia like that."

"He's impressing the Chinese by beating the Americans to the punch."

"Not for the first time either." She recounts for him how the Russians rented the Egyptian gate they had recovered from the Pacific back to the SGC then later considered switching the agreement to the Chinese in order to squeeze more money out of the U.S. "Speaking of which, did anyone bring up the Stargate?"

"No. Should they have?"

"They will. Both gates have to use Earth as the point of origin. The Americans and Russians discovered that a Stargate with a proper DHD overrides one without. The SGC uses a computer program to dial."

"While we have a proper Ancient dial home device..."

"Exactly."

"No wonder General O'Neill was so grumpy. The Air Force won't be able to use the gate without our cooperation. The Russians are sucking up to us because their gate isn't as valuable now."

"Exactly."

"We're effectively taking over Stargate Command. Oh, _crap_."

"Better start lining up candidates for the positions you're gonna need to fill."

"We should really do this together..."

"You're the military commander," she reminds him. "Have fun."

With a sour face, he grumbles, "Alright, but I want a promotion to full colonel for this!"

 _'You're retired, remember?'_


	16. Public Relations

The first "official" press conference takes place in Hobart, Tasmania, hosted by the CCAMLR commission that oversees the Antarctic Treaty System. The talking points were few but Ville filled out the broadcast beautifully. Sheppard grudgingly realises just how much the world is going to love her.

"Atlantis was built for exploration whether it's physical or mental, scientific or spiritual. In keeping with the intent of the ATS, we'll be inviting scientists and researchers from all over the world, from virtually every field of interest to humankind, to come to Atlantis and combine their efforts in a neutral, cooperative community.

"Atlantis' focus will be on solutions to problems that face all the peoples of the Earth whether it's famine, disaster recovery, ecological efforts. We can't promise a magic pill. We're not going to be able to solve the world's problems but we hope to inspire people from all walks of life to work together for the betterment of all.

"Atlantis treasures knowledge and learning. We're excited about the opportunities for supporting and promoting education. It sounds cliche but the children really _are_ the future. The human mind has such amazing potential..."

She would have stayed and answered questions all day if he hadn't been watching the time. "Sorry to interrupt, folks, but I'm afraid that's all the time we have for today. Thanks for coming and we look forward to seeing you again soon." He steers her away from the podium. _'That went well.'_

 _'Yes, I think so.'_ She greets and charms the various dignitaries along the route to the exit. _'You managed to keep a low profile.'_

 _'Well, you're the face and voice of Atlantis.'_

 _'I don't doubt some of those reporters were checking you out.'_

 _'You mean the lady from the Irish Times?'_

 _'Et le monsieur de Le Monde.'_ She winks back at him as she climbs into the car.

"Yeah, whatever." He pulls the phone out of his jacket pocket and checks the display. "Gotta take this - Rodney, what the hell took you so long to get back to me?"

McKay could be heard hurling question after question without waiting for the answers. "I think he missed me," Sheppard whispers. "Yeah, Rodney, about that, listen we want to keep the technological contamination down to a minimum so how about we charter a plane to fly you and Jennifer to Australia and I'll come pick you up in a jumper? Nah, it'll be a great flight. Trust me. I'll make sure they show Moby Dick on the plane." Sheppard holds the phone away from his ear as McKay's volume rises. "See ya in a coupla days, buddy." He cancels the call. "He sends his love."

"I could tell."

* * *

Near a lake surrounded by desert on the border between Western Australia and Northern Territory, a localised dust storm draws no attention.

In the predawn hour, a man appears from thin air like a desert spirit. The Maori guides make signs to ward off evil. The young boy with them runs to wake the white woman.

Dr. Jennifer Keller laughs, "Colonel Sheppard, is that really you? Oh my gosh!" She jogs over and gives him a brief hug.

"Hey, doc." He pats her back awkwardly. "It's just John now."

"Well, okay, _John_. This is so exciting. We couldn't believe it when we heard the news!"

He always liked her well enough but he wonders how Rodney deals with the bubbly enthusiasm all the time. "Sorry, we didn't get in touch sooner."

"Totally understandable!"

"Is McKay up yet?"

She snorts, "Rodney? Are you kidding? He was up all night complaining about the sand and heat."

"Actually, I still am," McKay gripes as he fumbles his way out of the tent. "Sheppard! Why couldn't you pick us up in Perth? Instead of making us come all the way out here in the middle of nowhere? I think I have sand in every crevice of my body."

"I figured all this dry air would be good for your allergies. Nice to see you, too, by the way." Sheppard ducks into the tent to grab luggage and load it on the jumper.

"Oh. Well. Nice to see you."

"Rodney," Keller admonishes, "I'm sure he just wanted to keep the space ship away from prying eyes."

"Besides I thought you'd appreciate the lake they named after you," Sheppard jokes.

McKay rolls his eyes. "The lake is _Mackay_. It's not even spelled the same." After several minutes, he gives up trying to collapse the tent and motions to the kid that he can keep it. He hauls the last of his stuff while Sheppard helps Keller stow her bags. The jumper takes off, still cloaked, leaving only a small dust devil in its wake.


	17. Home Owners Association

Predictably the first thing McKay wants to do upon arrival is run a citywide diagnostic. Ville leans against the console next to him.

He stammers apologetically, "It's not that I don't take your word for it. I just like to be, you know, current."

"Of course, I understand, Rodney. I appreciate your...dedication. That's why your old job is waiting for you if you want it."

All McKay's senses go into high alert. "Really? Head of Science and Research?"

"Director," Ville suggests.

"Director? Huh. I'll, uhm, have to talk to Jennifer, I mean, Dr. Keller, first, but uh," he dithers, "Director. Hmm. And I still get paid, right?"

Ville smiles, "I think we can come to an arrangement."

Sheppard chimes in, "Sure. We can start you at minimum wage and work up from there."

"Oh, hardy-har-har."

"Now, now, boys, I need you two to help me run this city so find your rhythm again." The three of them gravitate to Elizabeth's old office.

Sheppard says, "I prefer to put together my own team, thank you."

"What? You don't want me on your team?"

"Earth isn't exactly the dangerous unknown, Rodney."

"Fine! I didn't want to be on your team anyway."

She says, "You are both going to be on _my_ team."

Both men exclaim, "What?"

"We should add a few more positions to the Council so start thinking about candidates." She leans back in the chair behind the desk and watches.

"Council?" they ask in stereo then Sheppard hisses to McKay, "Will you _stop_ that?"

McKay forges ahead, "You mean a ruling Council, the way the Ancients ran Atlantis?"

"Hold on. I don't think we should just run things the way the Ancients did. They _did_ end up having to abandon the city, remember?"

"Oh, yeah, well, you can forget about running it like the military this time!"

"A). I never ran Atlantis and B). I'm not in the military anymore so you got nothing to worry about!"

While invitations for positions and residencies are offered based on merit, former members of the Atlantis expedition are also offered citizenship, dual citizenship if their native countries allow it. From those, the next two Council members are drawn : Dr. Jennifer Keller and Richard Wolsey.

Wolsey stands in the office stunned. "You're asking _me_ to come back to Atlantis? I don't understand."

McKay mutters, "Neither do we." Sheppard silences him with a glare.

Ville assures him, "Atlantis-on-Earth needs your skill set more than Altantis-in-Pegasus did. The city needs a legal and financial adviser, someone with high attention to detail, someone who doesn't easily bow to pressure."

"Someone who doesn't mind doing paperwork," Sheppard chimes in.

"You have a year's experience working with this team, these people. It's just a matter of redefining roles and flattening the hierarchy structure, Richard."

Wolsey is suddenly in his element, "Interesting. We've only five on the Council? Do you really think that's adequate?"

"For now, it is," Sheppard says. "We'll probably pick two more within a year. I'm pushing for Lorne."

Ville adds, "My vote would only be required to break a deadlock, if it ever came to that."

"Shouldn't you remain above the fray so to speak?" Wolsey suggests.

"Yes, Richard. Which is why we still need at least two more members. Until then, I expect all of you to make every effort not to need me to make decisions for you."

"She wants to play the Queen, not the Prime Minister," Sheppard elaborates.

Wolsey counters, "That would imply we need a prime minister."

Keller says doubtfully, "This is starting to sound more complicated than I thought it would be."

"It's not," McKay jumps in impatiently. "Look, I have a love-hate relationship with the military - yes, I know you're retired - but our team's arrangement back in Pegasus is the most logical, workable model for what we need. Atlantis is not that big. Everyone has their input. We generally agree on a course of action and proceed. We just have to agree that, in the event of an unresolvable conflict, we will trust one person to make the final call. And I don't know about you two but for me that person is Sheppard."

"So you can blame me if it all goes wrong," Sheppard says knowingly.

"Exactly."

"I appreciate the vote of confidence, Rodney."

Wolsey and Sheppard look at one another. Sheppard folds his arms casually says, "I vote for Richard."

Keller is surprised, "Uh, may I ask why?"

"Well, he did survive a year of being in charge of the expedition."

Wolsey harrumphs. "Actually, I was going make the same gesture by voting for you, John."

"That's two to one," Keller laughs, "So I don't have to actually vote...?"

"Yes," the three men chorus.

Dr. Keller wrings her hands, "Well. This is awkward but...I agree with Rodney. I trust Colonel Sheppard, too, sorry, I mean John," she makes one of her funny faces before folding hers arms and turning serious, "But when he _does_ make up his mind to do something...," she looks at him significantly.

He remembers a moment in the infirmary aboard the _Daedalus_ during battle, a certain disagreement about whether he was fit for duty or not. Leaning towards her now, he quietly reminds her, "We saved Teyla that day."

She leans close as well and gets tough, "Yeah and if you had bled to death in the process, I would've lost a patient who should've been in surgery. Instead, I released you because I trusted you. And I am _so_ holding that over your head, buster." She pokes him in the shoulder.

"Fair enough, doc."

Wolsey adds, "And with the three of us pitted against you, you really wouldn't have a leg to stand on, would you?"

Sheppard raises both eyebrows and starts to turn to Ville.

 _'Don't look at me.'_

"Right. Richard. Which is why we need more people on the Council."

Wolsey nods to Ville, "Then I accept the position."

"Welcome home, Richard."

"Thank you. I'll try to keep my dog out of your yard," he kids dryly.

"W-w-wait, we're allowing dogs..?" Rodney protests, "Is that really such a good idea? I think we need to vote on this. Seriously. I have _severe_ allergies."


	18. Magnificence

The dining area of the suite is dressed to be cozy and intimate - warm recessed lighting, candles, rich tapestries, area rugs and the Ancients' idea of a fireplace. The table is small for four, just right for two, set with fine china, sterling silver flatware, Irish linen, Waterford crystal and a bottle of cabernet breathing to one side.

He brushes his hands on a serving towel, tosses it on the sideboard and unrolls his sleeves. He is wearing a fine Egyptian cotton dress shirt unbuttoned at the neck. The door chimes quietly just as he catches a glimpse in the mirror and with a grimace, takes a few quick swipes at his hair.

His hand waving in front of the crystal panel opens the door to reveal her standing barefoot in a simple white gosamer dress. "Wow," he says quietly, taking in the effect. "You look...elegant. Uhm, come on in. Perfect timing, of course."

Ville smiles coyly over her shoulder as she walks past, "Of course."

"Your table is right this way, madame." He places his hand against the small of her back to escort her.

"Oh my," she says with a little laugh. "Who are you and what have you done with John Sheppard?"

He pulls out her chair and seats her. "Someone gave me some advice once about embracing my upbringing." Next he pours the wine and hands her a glass then raises his own. "You look beautiful," the smile playing on his face reaches his eyes.

"Thank you." After taking a sip, she admires the setting. Watching him present and serve the meal, she adds, "To be honest, I expected beer and burgers and Springsteen."

"Tell you what, next time, we'll have a football date. Tonight I was going for a little more Bruce Wayne."

"Kilmer or Keaton?"

"Bale" he protests and sits, "No contest."

"Maybe with a bit of Peter Parker thrown in. And what is this music?" she listens for a moment. "Hummel?"

He pauses to listen as well, musing, " _Piano Quintet in E Flat Major. Opus 87_. I downloaded it from iTunes."

The meal is light and simple. "This is wonderful. Possibly even romantic." She savors a morsel.

He beams, "So we _can_ manage to surprise each other."

"I shouldn't think you liked surprises."

"Well, if you're going to spend eternity with someone..."

She chooses her words carefully and her thoughts even more so. "I hope you realise that's not your only option. You're not confined or limited here."

Leaning back, he says expansively, "I've been thinking about that. How lonely it might get, being cut off from your own kind, from your own family."

Ville nods, "Sometimes, it's all too easy to lose sight of how quickly time passes. You should reconcile with your brother."

"Point taken but I'm not talking about that. You gave me forty years in Pegasus to experience a whole new level of solitude, losing Mitchell and Beckett, Teyla and Ronon." He moves over one chair and lays his arm across the back of hers, leaning in closely and speaking quietly. "For me, solitude was usually a preference. I can't imagine how many people you've lost that you cared about. But I do know how deeply you feel things."

Graciously, she thanks him with kind words, "I appreciate that, John."

Chagrined, he realises he's not making his intentions clear. "What I'm trying to say - what I _want_ to say is - I don't know how it works, if Ascended beings can even get married," he senses a growing reticence in her and presses onward, "I know that's probably the last thing you'd ever expect from me. I'm literally a different man now. Everything is different now." He takes her face gently in his hands, strokes her cheek then kisses her. _'I am right here. I am not going anywhere.'_

 _In the space of a heartbeat, her consciousness opened up to him like a parting sea, enveloping him. He drew her to him. They swam with one another. They made love. They made joy. They danced together as he began to lead. He tasted her emotions. There was bittersweetness here. He went looking for answers._

 _An ocean swell of sorrow gathered. A towering wave loomed, threatening to crash over him. He emerged into the white place, a calm eye in the storm of her consciousness. Now he remembered he'd been here before. When he died._

 _She sat, with her feet tucked under her, as if it were too much to stand, like an ageless and timeless child with a tired old soul._

 _He bent down on one knee. 'What is it? Show me.'_

 _She pressed her head against his and allowed him to peer into the shadows._

 _He pushed further into the darkness and witnessed a giant gaping wound, inflicted not from without but from within. Two such wounds and many, many scars. Faintly, he heard a voice,_

 _'Only love can leave such a mark'_

Her breath on his cheek is warm. "John, stop. Please."

He opens his eyes, seated on his bed, cradling her in his lap. Not sure what to do, he holds her, trying to think of some words that would console. "I'm sorry," is all he can come up with but its simplicity conveys everything he wants to say. She entwines her arms around him. He kisses her hair. "I'm really sorry." Suddenly the looming wave crashes and she presses her face into his shoulder to muffle a sob that won't be held back.

 _He walks along the beach at the edge of an ocean, wondering if he'll ever be able to cross. He comes upon the footsteps of all those who passed this way before him. High tide should have washed them all away but curiously some remain. He resists the temptation to look behind him, to see if his own steps are being erased._

 _She appears, walking beside him, resting her head on his shoulder, entwining her arm around his. He holds her hand and continues on._

 _Eventually he says, 'I don't recognise this metaphor.'_

 _She asks, 'Can't it just be an ocean with a beach?'_

 _He turns the thought over in his mind like a pebble in hand which he then tosses into the water. 'No. Not after what I saw. So who is he? He's here, on Earth, isn't he? The man you turned your back on an entire galaxy for.'_

 _'I didn't turn my back on Pegasus. I did what I always do - observe. The humans. The Wraith. The other species you never encountered or even suspected were there. Even if I could catch a glimpse of their futures, there are too many things in motion that must play out on that battlefield.'_

 _She sighs. 'Perhaps my father knew what he was doing after all, indoctrinating me with the limitations that he did. Part of your military training is knowing who you can save and who you can't?'_

 _'Yeah.'_

 _'Imagine suddenly not having that limitation anymore. How should one decide? How would you decide, John?'_

 _'I get what you're saying. It's hard - sitting on the sidelines, watching. Who to help, who not to help, it's a bitch. Believe me, I know.' They walk on. 'So who is he?'_

 _She smiles across time and space and softly says, 'Some brimstone, baritone, rolling stone preacher from the east,' then she laughs, 'Wearing his sins on his sleeve, just what they expected the least,' and more soberly, 'A spark that lit the flame, and for a little while, warmed us all.'_

 _John takes a deep breath, 'Wow. I have no idea what that means but it sounds great.' She playfully nudges him toward the water but he stays the course. 'Seriously, if he's out there why don't you just go?'_

 _'It was another time, another place. Here, now, he's alive, vibrant, a cross between Mother Theresa and Frank Sinatra. He has a wonderful wife and a bevy of lovely children. He's not the man I knew._

 _'The man that I loved and lost was a troubled, tortured soul. A poet, global laureate. A sinner saint. We were both in very dark places when he crossed my path and I...I was pulled into his orbit. Could not resist. Even if I'd known then that I had a choice, I couldn't have chosen otherwise. I thought I could help him,' she glances at John knowingly. 'I thought that all he needed was a lifeline. Instead, he consumed everyone around him who loved him until he consumed himself at last.'_

 _Disturbed, John asks, 'He killed himself?'_

 _Ville nods. 'His best friend and I were there, caught in some horrible air of inevitability. There was nothing we could do to stop him. It was as if...time froze. I didn't even remember it for a long time.'_

 _'I saw two wounds. There was another one, wasn't there?'_

 _'Yes. My minstrel. My Alan a Dale. His cancer was terminal. I was so angry, watching him waste away. The night he died, we argued. He wanted to talk about it...about the end, about how he had accepted it and he wanted, needed, me to accept it, too. Instead, I left and I drove and I drove and I drove until I ran out of gas near a town with no name. I had no idea where I was, I didn't have anything with me except the keys to the car and - this being before the ubiquity of cell phones - I had to call collect from a pay phone. They told me that he died an hour after I left the hospital. That's where I was standing when the second wave hit.'_

 _'That's a regret.'_

 _'Maybe that was their destiny. Their Fate,' she sneers resentfully. 'Not long ago I learned that I, too, have the power to choose, that I always did. There are a lot of things my father never told me apparently.'_

 _'Fathers are like that.' A moment of silence plays around them like the wind._

 _'I like your beach,' she says. 'Bit overcast, reminds me of Ireland. It could use some seagulls, though.'_

 _'Seagulls?' he scoffs. 'Rats with wings.'_

 _'Did you know they mate for life?' she flirts with him._

 _'Do they now? I did not know that,' he flirts back with a little more enthusiasm._

 _They stop and turn to face one another, his beach beneath her feet, her ocean at his back. 'Thank you, John.'_

 _'Don't mention it.' He gives her a single perfect kiss. 'My pleasure.'_

 _Suddenly they look away from each other._

 _'What the-'_

 _'-the hell?'_

 _They look at each other. 'Jumper bay.'_

 _The beach is deserted as the tide rolls in, reducing all footsteps to the barest of impressions._


	19. A Day In The Life

An alarm blares. The doors leading up to the jumper bay part for him. "McKay! What the hell is going on!"

McKay & Zelenka are bickering over a computer tablet, shouting vociferously at each other over the alarm. Sheppard bellows, "Rodney!"

McKay turns and shouts, "What are you doing here? Look there's nothing to worry about. Zelenka just screwed up a..."

"I did no such thing! You wrote that program, not me!" Zelenka continues berating McKay, cursing in Czech.

"Rodney, just please tell me that my city's not about to blow up!"

Arrogantly, McKay snaps, "It's not your city; I have put more of my blood, intellectual sweat and genius into keeping this city running smoothly and efficiently, thank you very much!" The alarm shut off in the middle of his rant. "There you see, nothing to worry about."

Sheppard gestures at Ville, who is speaking soothingly to Zelenka in Czech, "That just means she shut off the alarm. Now what did you do to my jumpers?"

"They are not your..."

Sheppard raises his finger in warning and uses his _you're-the-genius-scientist-but-I-am-the-genius-pilot_ voice, "What did you do to set off the alarm?"

"I am adapting-"

"We!" Zelenka yells, gesturing passionately. " _We_ are adapting, Rodney!"

"Fine!" McKay shouts back at him, then to Sheppard, "Zelenka is _assisting_ me with improving my design to add a hyperdrive to a jumper."

"You tried that already. It burned out after one jump."

"Yes, yes, yes, hence the improving. Do try to keep up," McKay uses his _I-am-so-wasting-my-time-on-you_ voice.

Ville steps in, "Gentlemen," she addresses both McKay and Zelenka. "I'm going to suggest a break. You've been working 32 hours straight and your team," she gestures around the hangar, "can barely keep their eyes open. Let's start fresh again tomorrow, agreed?" McKay and Zelenka fold their arms, pointedly not looking at one another. "Okay then. Everyone, can I have your attention, please? I want you all to go get something to eat or get some sleep. Thank you." The other, grateful, scientists waste no time heading for the exits.

"Has it been 32 hours? Seriously?"

Zelenka grumbles, "Yes, Rodney. I told you that you were starting to make mistakes," he switches to Czech without pause. They'd been working together so long that, without actually understanding Czech, McKay responds to Zelenka's accusations. "The radiological sensor protocols are too sensitive; that's why the alarm went off, not because of anything I did."

Sheppard interjects, "Radiological sensors? The city detected radiation in the room we're all standing in and it didn't occur to you to mention that?"

McKay huffs, "Would I still be standing here if there was any danger?"

Sheppard concedes, "Good point."

Ville assures them, "I'm not detecting dangerous levels of any type of radiation."

"As I've been _saying_ ," McKay snipes at her. Ville assumes a wounded look, " _Rod_ -ney."

McKay's shoulders sag as he rolls his eyes. "Look, I'm sorry..."

Sheppard motions Zelenka to leave. The Czech raises his eyes on high and presses his hands together to thank whichever saint is the patron of desparately exhausted astrophysicists.

"...but I'd be done if I weren't having to stop every five minutes to explain everything."

This is the part Sheppard loves. Ville takes McKay's hands and pouts, "Rodney, I worry about you. You work so hard-" McKay practically sags, "-vital to the city. I need you to take care of yourself," then she uses her little girl lost voice, "Please? For me?"

Finally, McKay's will crumples under the pressure of his own ego. "Yes, yes, alright. I will. I promise. I'll be in my quarters if anyone needs me," he walks past Sheppard and catches his smirk. "Oh, shut up."

"Nighty-night, Rodney. Don't let the bed-bugs bite," Sheppard can't resist teasing. McKay stops in the doorway to heave an overly dramatic sigh before heading down the corrider. Sheppard feels a hard smack across his arm, "Ow!"

Ville shakes her head, "You are so mean," and walks away.

"I was just admiring your technique. Seriously, it's a beautiful thing." He follows her out of the bay. "Did we ever finish that dinner? Ville? Ville? You're not really mad at me, are you?"


	20. Song's Got No Title

As the sun pops up over the horizon, his eyes blink open. He stretches with a yawn. Someone stirs next to him when he reaches for his watch. He groans at the time.

 _Icarus. Rush. Destiny. Nine._

She's curled up, asleep as these random thoughts run through her consciousness. Her hair is splayed across the pillow in a wild tangle, a few strands stuck to her face.

He brushes them back and lazily strokes her bare shoulder. "Beautiful," he murmurs and slides his hand along her side. She bats at his hand and knocks him on the chin in the process. He frowns and leans over to see her face. "You awake?" Reaching over, he tickles her nose until she twitches, rolling over rambunctiously slamming into his chest and tucking her fists under her cheek.

Quietly, he says, "Ow." She tries to curl up again but apparently he's in the way so she drapes her leg over his, effectively trapping in him bed. As far as traps go, he's been in worse but this is ridiculous.

"Come on, sleeping beauty, time to get up."

Muffled, she whines childlike, "I don' wanna."

Annoyed, he repeats, "You don't want to? You don't even need sleep."

More coherently, she complains, "I like sleeping, for the same reason you still eat."

"Oh, really? Well, you don't seem to mind the candle lit dinners with the fine wine, delicious food and sumptuous surroundings."

She raises her head, blinking, "Did you just use the word 'sumptuous'?"

"Yes, and I believe I used it correctly as well," he replies haughtily. She snorts derisively and frees one of her hands to rub his stubbled jaw affectionately.

"You know," he purrs, "if you weren't such a brat, I'd be happy to lie here and stare..."

Nuzzling his throat, she suggests, "For days and days? Eternity? Until the end of the universe itself?"

"I was gonna say a couple of hours but those others sound good, too."

Giggling, she says, "You so don't-not-like me."

"Oh, I like you alright. In fact, I think you're beautiful."

"If I'm beautiful, it's because you see me that way. To others, I look they way they perceive me."

"Well, I'm hoping they don't get to see you the way I get to see you." He drew his hand around the curve of her hip and under her thigh.

She breathes in his ear, "Not in your timeline anyway."

Eagerly, he says, "Oh really? Do tell."

"And fuel your insane jealousy? I think not."

"Why should I be jealous? Wait. They _were_ all corporeal, right?" he feigns uncertainty.

With a laugh, she rolls over on her back so she can gaze in the warmth of his smile and the twinkle in his eyes. "You're happy."

"For once in my miserable life, I don't have any reason not to be."

"You're used to having the city and me all to yourself."

"Ah, but when you choose to sleep, which I still find odd, whose bed do you sleep in, Goldilocks?"

Glancing side to side, she speculates, "Mine?"

His eyes sweep the room. These aren't his quarters. "I could've _sworn_ we started out in my bunk," he comments with mock suspicion. "Doesn't matter. I figured out who your tortured poet is."

Sceptically, she replies, "You think so?"

"I interpreted _poet_ to mean he's a writer, maybe poems, maybe books or songs, and I figure you've got to have _everything_ he's ever done in your library, so..."

"How do you know what's in my library?"

"I went through your stuff, how else? And I know now that the great love of your life - to whom I can never, ever hope to live up to - is," he pauses for dramatic effect, "Isaac Asimov."

"Ah, dear old, Asi." She giggles then points out, "He's dead in this timeline."

Sheppard proclaims, "I knew that. It's Bob Dylan! No? Van Morrison?" As he leans down for a kiss, he hears a voice.

 _"Wolsey to Sheppard, come in, please."_

Sheppard groans remembering what time it is. "Yes, Richard."

 _"Did you forget we have a Council meeting this morning?"_

"No, Richard." He rolls out of bed and pictures himself dressed and walking toward the Council chamber.

 _"Perhaps, you'd like to grace us with your presence then?"_

"Always, Richard," he answers as the panel opens for him. "What'd I miss?"

McKay grumbles from his seat, "We're out of creamer."

"Really? Hmm, that's _odd_ ," Sheppard opens the refrigerated cupboard under the sideboard, "You mean this?" he hands McKay an unopened carton of a creamer-like, soy-based something or other.

"This was in there?" McKay squints bleary-eyed. "Huh."

Wolsey clears his throat. "Dr. McKay was about to give us an update on the jumper hyperdrive project."

Keller says, "Why would we need a hyperdrive on a puddle jumper?"

Sheppard assures her, "Because it'll be _really_ cool."

Defensively, McKay shoots back, "For emergencies and the like. In the unlikely event that the Stargate malfunctioned or if we want to pop over to Pegasus without eating up tetra-jules of power. A jumper with hyperdrive could travel to the nearest planet with a gate, use it to gate to the planet closest to the edge of the Milky Way, then travel through hyperspace to the nearest gate in Pegasus and on to New Athos - or wherever - from there."

"And how is that coming, Doctor?" Wolsey asks.

"W-well, we had a little set back last night but overall it's, uh, it's going well."

Evan Lorne, the reappointed head of security and newly voted onto the Council, asks, "Did that 'setback' cause the alarm last night?" This is his first meeting but it feels no different from mission briefings back in the Pegasus galaxy. The gang's all here. Almost. "Before I could even get on the radio, Ville tells me not to worry about it but that sounded like a radiation warning to me."

Keller and Beckett look at each other questioningly. Keller asks the group, "Why wasn't the infirmary notified?"

Sheppard casually dismisses everyone's concern, "Ville & I were on the spot and she confirmed Rodney's scans that showed no unusual radiation or abnormal levels of...normal radiation. Wasn't any point to waking everybody up in the middle of the night."

Keller steals a glance at Wolsey who suggests, "Funny how you just happen to be 'on the spot' last night."

"I like to stay up late. The city's quiet and it gives me a chance to touch base with the night shift personnel."

"Outside the jumper bay?" Wolsey presses.

"This hyperdrive project _is_ pretty exciting. I thought I'd pop in and see how it was going. Obviously there was a little setback but I'm confident McKay's team can overcome."

"Really?" McKay perks up a little bit, "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Sheppard answers warmly.

Wolsey nods in satisfaction. The discussion moves on to population and a need to organise an immigration policy. Ville has made it known that Atlantis should be capable of taking in refugees from countries suffering from corruption, famine or civil war.

Lorne summarises the itinerary of upcoming visits from international delegations.

McKay and Zalenka offer the same for upcoming scientific conferences they want to convene.

Sheppard addresses the resupply situation which dovetails into Wolsey's news of negotiations for trade agreements.

Zelenka enthuses about his pet project - coordinating the NEO survey mission from Atlantis to support existing efforts of so many underfunded observatories. "Our sensors are far more effective. We can cover more of the sky and farther out than scattered efforts." Wolsey expresses concerns about revealing too much Atlantean technology so soon.

McKay points out condescendingly that anyone with Internet access has by now seen the You Tube video of Atlantis arriving taken by a geologist using a nightscope with a camera, not a great quality video, "but it's obvious that the city must've come down from orbit. Any other Atlantean technology pales in comparision to the shield and stardrive. Don't be so paranoid."

"The cultural ramifications are potentially damaging," Wolsey insists, "Most Western societies are paranoid about Big Brother-style surveillance - imagine the anxiety and suspicion that knowledge of the Atlantean sensors and bio-detectors might generate."

"Aye, then there's the gene resequencer," Beckett reminds everyone. McKay winces.

"The nano tech lab where the Replicators were built," Keller offers.

"Well, _of course_ , some technology needs to remain restricted," McKay argues, "but there are primitive tribes that still think jets are giant metal birds."

Zelenka adds, "The blogosphere is speculating that crop circles and the Nazca lines were created to attract or guide Atlantis back to Earth."

"They also think there's a face on Mars and a giant monolith buried on the Moon," McKay oozes sarcasm.

Beckett pipes up, "Well, can you blame them, Rodney? The arrival of Atlantis seems equally fantastical."

"Yes, but obviously Atlantis is real. _Hello_?"

Sheppard calmly suggests, "I don't think we should waste too much time on this. Ville is handling the public relations; we go about our business and six months from now the public go back to wondering if Brad and Angelina will ever get back together."

McKay sits up, "Wait, they broke up?"

Wolsey counters, "Ville _is_ a celebrity and she draws attention to the city, perhaps too much so."

Lorne speaks up, "As head of security, I've got a meeting with her today about dialing back her public exposure and letting me assign some handlers to manage her public schedule and act as her security detail."

Sheppard points out, "Two problems with that proposition. One, she can be in more places at once than you have manpower to cover. Two, she doesn't exactly need security or protection."

"In my opinion, sir, the less anyone knows about her capabilities, the better."

"Good point," Sheppard approves.

"Yes, that's an excellent idea, Evan," Wolsey pauses to make a note for the meeting minutes which very few residents bother to read since they are all for the most part researchers or support personnel.

They wrap up with a vote confirming Zelenka as a Council member and putting forward names for the final position. When Katie Brown's name comes up, McKay shifts uncomfortably. His ex-girlfriend has returned to Atlantis as head of Biology which is easy for him to avoid but having her on the Council, too?

As the group breaks up into twos and threes, Sheppard clamps McKay on the shoulder, "If it'll help, I'd be happy to keep Katie distracted for you."

"Really? How would you do that?"

"By asking her out. I'm sure she'll forget all about you in no time."

"Oh, very funny."

Keller laughs. "Don't worry about it. John's just teasing you."

"No, I'm not," Sheppard deadpans.

She pinches him. "By the way, I need to speak to you about something. Can you hang around for a few minutes?"

McKay reacts, "What? What do you need to see him for?"

"Doctor-patient privilege, Rodney. I'll see you at lunch." She sends him off with a peck on the check. McKay blushes and goes.

"Nicely done, doc," Sheppard turns around, "but _you_ on the other hand, that was pretty clumsy."

Wolsey straightens his jacket. "Sorry to disappoint. Dr. Keller and I have some...concerns we'd like to discuss with you."

Sheppard casually reclines in a chair, puts his feet up on the table and places his hands behind his head, "Yeah, I picked up on that. What's goin' on?"

Keller sits nearby. "I don't mean to pry but as your doctor I'd like to ask you some questions."

Sheppard sits up, resting his elbows on the table. He assumed this was going to be about his relationship with Ville. "Sure. Go ahead."

"John, are you having trouble sleeping?"

"No," he answers honestly.

"Any trouble getting to sleep or staying asleep?"

"No." Still technically true.

"About how many hours a night do you sleep usually?"

Sheppards squints in Wolsey's direction, "What's this about?"

The older man clears his throat, "Dr. Keller and I have been comparing anecedotes from various personnel throughout the city and, well, a curious picture emerges."

"Curious picture," Sheppard repeats dubiously. "Like one of those 3D deals where you stare at the image a really long time and something pops out at you curious? Or one of those 'missing space' pictures, like 'is it a vase or two faces' curious?"

Keller takes the bull by the horns, "It's like this. One morning I relieved Dr. Garrett at 0600 and he mentioned you'd dropped by a few hours earlier. Later that week, one of the night nurses mentioned seeing you about midnight. I started keeping my ears open. People see you all over the city at all hours day and night it seems. It's like you're Elvis or something!"

"I was kinda hoping you were gonna say Johnny Cash." Sheppard frowns, "It's no mystery - everybody in this city knows who I am."

Wolsey consults his notes, "Some of these stories contradict each other. For example, two researchers conducting acoustic experiments in the Northeast Pier reported you passed through and stopped to chat. Close to the same time, the Ops log has an entry that you 'stopped by to get a status update, inquired about the staff.' That's quite a sprint from the Northeast Pier to the top of the tower."

"Thanks, I try to keep up with the exercise. I don't see what the big deal is here - the audio guys got the night mixed up or someone on the late shift got the time wrong. First shift people who work the night shift get a little disoriented, lose track of what time it really is. I'm sure it's the same with the other 'anecdotes'."

Keller accepts his explanation, "Well, I was concerned that you were roaming the halls night and day because you weren't sleeping."

"I've heard that's a _bad_ thing." He switches from smart-ass to warm-and-charming-as-hell in .005 seconds, "I appreciate your concern, doc, I know you're doing your job. Trust me, if I need a sleeping pill, I'm there. Deal?"

She smiles and nods, " _Oh_ -kay, deal."


	21. No Flight Of Fancy

McKay reaches his lab where he finds Ville admiring the schematics and equations of the hyper-jumper drive. "These are very elegant, Rodney."

"Uhm, thank you? You know we just had a meeting?"

 _Icarus. Rush. Destiny. nine. why nine?_

"Ville?" he prompts.

"I'm sorry. Yes, I was listening in. Rodney, have you ever heard of _Icarus_?"

Perplexed, McKay answers, "Greek mythology, right? Mmm, the fellow that flew so close to the sun that the glue holding his wings together melted? He died, if I remember correctly. Why do you ask?"

Ville retreats deeper into her thoughts, searching memories. "I don't know," she murmurs.

McKay hates unsolved problems. "Was it something you overheard, something you read? Or did it just come to you in a dream?" he jokes. His expression falls when she looks not at him but through him. He looks behind him and back again. She blinks. "Ville, what just happened? You looked like you were accessing the Ancient database but that took way too long."

"I was running a search on the name," she sighs in disappointment.

"You think it's something the Ancients were working on? Some sort of...," he starts snapping his fingers excitedly, "...flight? A ship?"

"I was dreaming the words: Icarus. Rush. Destiny. And nine."

"What, the Council?"

"Hey, you tryin' to move in on my girl?" Sheppard asks from behind McKay.

"That was quick. What'd Jennifer want? Aw! Not my birthday! She's not planning a surprise party for my birthday? I hate surprise parties."

"Relax, Rodney. She just needed to tell she changed something on my medical profile. Apparently 'Sex' was not a yes-or-no question," Sheppard explains dryly. "So what are you two talking about?"

"We're not sure. Are we? Ville?"

Still occupied, she doesn't directly acknowledge either. "I need to talk to Jack."

Sheppard senses something big going on. "Why don't I come with?"

"Actually, no. You've got a staff meeting."

"I do?" As McKay gives him an odd look, Sheppard, continues, "I mean, yeah, I do. Lorne & I will drop by later about that security detail."

Ville is not listening. Vaguely, she acknowledges them and leaves.

McKay simply says, "Huh."

Sheppard closes in suspiciously, "Alright, what'd she say to you?"

"Nothing really. I guess she had some sort of flash about a project the Ancients might've been working on. Something about, uh, 'Icarus rush destiny and nine'."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"I don't know. I'm not sure she does either."

* * *

Lorne approachs what has traditionally been the office of the expedition leader. General O'Neill is on the veiwscreen and engaged in a highly charged conversation with Ville.

"Ville, we have the situation covered. Believe me, the best minds on the planet are working on getting our people home."

"You don't have McKay working on it."

"If Carter thinks McKay can contribute something, she'll get in touch."

"Damn it, Jack, let me help. They've limited supplies - food, medical. Most of them are civilians, for gods' sake."

"We're keeping in touch and providing as much support as we can with the communication stones."

"They don't need talk therapy! Colonel Young said it in his report, 'These are the wrong people in the wrong place.' Jack, I can get there, why don't you want me to help?"

O'Neill leans toward the camera and steels his voice, "They're all the way across the damn universe. You don't know for sure you have the capability - let alone have any juice left to do anything if you do make it there. You can do the most good here. In Atlantis. If you disappear, what kind of message does that send to the folks here on Earth? Let me bottom line this for you. The Pentagon is not happy that the SGC is dependant on Atlantis' cooperation to use the Stargate at Cheyenne Mountain because of the DHD situation. The _Destiny_ is our problem, those are our people, it's our mission. D.C. doesn't want you anywhere near it."

"This isn't about politics!"

"Yes. It is. I'm not any happier about than you are."

"Then let _me_ bottom line it : I don't need anyone's cooperation to do this."

"No, but this city does."

"What are you on about, Jack?"

"They'll pull out of the CCAMLR. Boycott Atlantis. Without U.S. support, your mission here could be seriously undermined." He straightens and cautions her, "There was a time when you trusted me enough to follow my orders. Stay here. Do your job. Let me worry about getting those people off _Destiny_."

From the doorway, Lorne clears his throat. "Ma'am, should I come back at a later time?"

Fixing O'Neill with her frustrated stare, she replies, "No, Evan, please come in. I think General O'Neill was just about to finish."

"Good to see you again, General." He resists the urge to salute. A corner of Ville's mouth lifts ever so slightly.

O'Neill nods to Lorne, "Likewise." To Ville, "Look, I'll keep you briefed, okay? Just think about what I said."

She answers him curtly. "Fine. Give my regards to Sam."

"Good. I will." O'Neill signs off.


	22. One Evan, Two Evans

Lorne enters with a questioning look on his face. "If you don't mind my asking, was that something I should know about?"

"No, no. Sit, please." Rather than sitting across a desk, she joins him in the sitting area and tucks her bare feet under her as she settles in a chair. "There's a situation off-world."

"You don't think the fabled SG-1 can handle it?" He adds a hint of amusement to his voice.

"There's the rub - there is no more fabled SG-1. Jack works at the Pentagon. Sam is based out of Area 51. Teal'c is increasingly called upon to play elder statesman with off-world factions. He & Mitchell are negotiating a truce with the Aleutian Alliance. And Daniel can pretty much write his own ticket these days."

Lorne considers his words carefully. "For someone who thinks so highly of our potential, you don't seem to have a lot of confidence in us right now." As she studies him, he feels a nudge at the back of his mind. His eyes narrow slightly. "I'm getting the feeling you want to ask me something."

"You were born with the Ancient gene, weren't you?"

"Yes, ma'am, I was."

"You can call me 'Ville', you know."

He shakes his head slightly. "I disagree. You're my boss. I guess it's the military man in me."

"You're on the Council, Evan."

"Yes, and I appreciate that opportunity, but _you_ hired me. It's my personal belief that being head of security requires a certain professional distance in order to do the job as effectively as possible. At least while I'm on duty."

She nods sagely. "Very well. I believe you wanted to discuss my itinerary."

They review the next day's schedule and discuss his recommendations for a personal assistant to plan and coordinate her public movements and a token security detail to travel with her. She objects to a few minor details but he presents his line of reasoning with compelling arguments and a touch of wry wit. _'You can take the man out of the military but not the military out of the man.'_ She accepts his suggestion of Sara Thompson as her new assistant. "She's the head of the Receptions Committee, isn't she?"

"Yes, ma'am. She's whipped them into a well-oiled machine. I think they can survive her promotion. She's organised, got great attention to detail, experience with scheduling the movements of Very Important People."

"Like the Venezuelan Minister of Energy who 'lost' his way onto the restricted level where the main power room happens to be," she laughs.

"Exactly. You can bet _he'll_ never make it back on the invite list as long as she has anything to say about it," Lorne grins.

"I like her already."

He moves on to transportation. "Mr. Wolsey has a valid point about technological contamination. There's a boutique aircraft manufacturer near Hobart that fabricates and manually assembles their own craft."

Ville nods, "I think I know who you're talking about. An organisation I once worked with bought jets from them."

"They're like the Aston Martin of personal aircraft. I'd like to order three jets built to specs I asked Zelenka and the Combat Engineer boys to model. And as for paying for the planes, the specs include significant engine enhancements. I'm going to propose to the Council that we lease them the engine specs along with a slightly less advanced version of the modelling application."

"Ah, another revenue stream for the city. Richard might be swayed by that."

"That's what I'm thinking. We could have the CCAMLR give us some space to hangar the planes and a jumper. We take the jumper to Hobart and switch there."

"Still. Conventional jet. That's a lot of travel time."

"Did I mention the significant engine enhancements?" he raises his eyebrow.

"Ah. I see," she lapses into an Irish lilt, "Worth a pretty penny are they?"

"Then there's the free advertising. Their planes, our badges."

Ville's eyes light up, "What do you want for the livery?"

Lorne shrugs, "It seems natural to use the Atlantis mission badge."

"With the Pegasus horse? Don't you think that's a little," she wrinkles her nose, "down to Earth?"

Lorne laughs. "Maybe. Or a reminder where Atlantis has flown in from."

She joins him, "Or both," they chime together.

"Pardon me, I didn't mean to interrupt anything so _important_ ," Sheppard says as he walks across the threshold. "I need to borrow her for a second."

Lorne stands, "Sure, I can leave."

Ville motions him to stay. "This won't take long."

From Lorne's perspective, the conversation sounds like this :

Sheppard : Wolsey and Keller are starting to figure it out; they don't _know_ what they're starting to figure out but they're pretty close to figuring it out.

Ville : Elvis? Really?

Sheppard : Her words, not mine.

Ville : And who's fault is that?

Sheppard : Fine, but I don't know who to tell.

Ville : When are you planning to tell them?

Sheppard : I was kinda hoping you'd help me out with that.

Ville sighs. "Well, you can start with Evan."

"Right! Lorne, do me a favor and stand...right here. Keep your eyes on me and don't blink."

Sheppard is no longer in front of him and Lorne feels a tapping on his shoulder. Feeling like a sucker, Lorne turns around. Sheppard shrugs apologetically.

"Nice trick. How'd you do that, sir?"

"I ascended," Sheppard confesses.

Lorne nods. "Just now?"

"No," Sheppard bites back the smart-ass remark he'd normally make. "It was during our last mission." As Sheppard explains it to him, Ville watches Lorne listening ever so seriously. He has a certain gravity to him and the implications weigh on him - he lost his commanding officer and he never even knew it.

"I'm sorry, sir."

"You did everything right, Lorne," Sheppard places his hand on the other man's shoulder. "More importantly, you didn't leave our people behind. You made me proud even."

Lorne wrinkles his brow, "Really?"

"Yes, really. I mean if I had _known_ I was dead at the time, I might've been less proud of you and more pissed at that Genii that shot me."

"Boys, we can save the rest for the Council. John, you might want to think about what you need to say to them. Evan & I have a job interview to conduct."

"Yes, ma'am," they both reply. Sheppard takes his leave. Ville says, "You didn't seem very surprised by John's little demonstration."

"They surgically remove surprise when you join the SGC," Lorne jokes wryly.


	23. The High Council

The table in the Council room has been changed to the triangular three-on-a-side model. Subconsciously it feels more appropriate to the Nine members of the Council. Yet, in spite of the equilateral arrangement, wherever Ville chooses to sit would be considered the 'head of the table.' She chose carefully the middle seat with the nine panel doors as her backdrop.

To her left and right sit Sheppard and McKay. To McKay's right sits Keller, Beckett and Zalenka. To Sheppard's left sits Wolsey, Lorne and the newly elected Dr. Katie Brown.

Ville rises and thanks everyone "for joining and convening the First Council of Atlantis in over ten thousand years. You've all expressed opinions on the governance of the city now that we are on Earth again. Indulge me in a quick civics lesson," she smiles charmingly.

"The Convention for the Conservation of Antarctic Marine Living Resources is headquartered in Hobart, Tasmania. The CCAMLR's international commission governs the Antarctic Treaty System. The ATS covers the continent, the islands of South Orkney, South Shetland, Peter the First Island, Scott Island and Belleny Island. Because parts of the continent extend outside the Antarctic Circle, the geographical boundary is considered, poetically so in my opinion, the seasonably variable Antarctic Polar Front currents which surround the continent.

"On behalf of Atlantis, Richard, John & I presented to the international commission, a petition for the stewardship of the ATS territory. They've accepted our petition."

Applause broke out around the table. Zelenka exudes, "This is wonderful news!"

"Aye," Beckett agrees. Lorne nods in agreement.

"You doubted it?" McKay asks. "I'm sure they were instantly won over by the Sheppard charm."

Keller pokes him, "I'm sure Richard's arguments helped."

"Thank you, Dr. Keller," Wolsey responds.

Ville resumes control of the meeting. "Also, I have appealed to the United Nations General Assembly to recognise Atlantis as a sovereign state. The Russians have already nominated the action and Britain and France have seconded it. John & I have met with representatives of other countries. Australia and New Zealand are pleased with the CCAMLR's vote of confidence and have pledged their support as has Canada. China is considering its options. Thanks to Richard's preliminary trade overtures to Japan, the Foreign Minister has indicated Japan may be amenable."

Dr. Brown raises her hand somewhat timidly. "This probably isn't the time but the Japanese whaling industry is a concern I think."

Wolsey assures her, "We expected it would be for them as well. Part of the 'gentleman's agreement' if you'll pardon the term, was a trade incentive that will allow the Japanese government to save face while conceding certain concessions in that area." Brown nods somewhat mollified.

Lorne speaks up, "What about the U.S. government?"

Ville sits as the meeting moves into work mode. "The White House and Joint Chiefs are maneuvering to get political support for a 'yes' vote in Congress."

Keller asks incredulously, "They wouldn't actually vote no, would they?"

"Generals Hammond and O'Neill have briefed the new President on the benefits of friendship."

"The Administration wants a Congressional vote to cover their political asses," Sheppard grumbles. Reluctantly he admits, "My brother is, ah, well-connected. He's let me back-channel some of his friends who have friends in Congress." An uncomfortable pause follows, which McKay breaks with a simple, "Huh."

Ville reminds them of another issue with U.S. relations. "For those of you not versed in Stargate mechanics, years ago Colonel Carter discovered a gate protocol which gives an active gate with a proper DHD precedence over a gate without one. The SGC does not have an Ancient dial home device for its gate."

Zelenka mutters in Czech. McKay answers, "Exactly."

"The members of the Senate Intelligence Committee privvy to the Stargate program are understandably concerned," Wolsey reports. "Congressional recognition of Atlantis' sovreignty will ease tension. If not, then the Stargate becomes Atlantis' leverage when dealing with the United States." He clears his throat, "U.S. citizens taking up residence in Atlantis may become subject to recall."

While the original expedition was intended as an internationally diverse body, Dr. Elizabeth Weir insisted on the best and brightest. Earth's foremost experts on the gate and Ancient technology were disproportionately American due to the U.S. Air Force control of the program.

"If those members of the expedition are forced to choose, we may find ourselves having to replace them and we should start planning for that sooner rather than later," Wolsey finishes.

Of the Council, Keller, Sheppard, Lorne and Wolsey are U.S.-Atlantean citizens. Keller's father lives in Michigan. Wolsey, for all his gruffness, is a deeply patriotic man. Lorne's loyalty echoes Sheppard's own when Sheppard says, "For what it's worth, I plan on turning in my passport no matter what," using his _nationalism-is-so-Cold-War-Era_ voice. "This city has been home for the past five, six years and you people are my family," he admits, glancing at McKay, "Not to mention our Pegasus family."

McKay bravely adds, "Here, here. Fortunately, we Canadians are less nationalistic but if the Americans are forced to choose...then I choose to give up my native citizenship as well."

Keller says with dismay, "But, Rodney, your sister's family...?"

"Mmm? Oh, no, no, no, Canadian visas aren't that difficult to obtain."

"So it's not really much of a sacrifice for you, is what you're saying," she folds her arms in an _you're-such-an-ass_ gesture.

"I wouldn't...characterise it like that. Not exactly," he folds his arms in retaliation.

"Well, we're not there yet," Wolsey assures them. "I have every confidence Atlantis will not have to adopt an adversarial posture towards the U.S."

Lorne comments, "Yeah, that kinda defeats the whole purpose."

Ville seconds Lorne's comment. "Exactly. Atlantis is too large of an opportunity; the U.S. won't want to be left out. So, we go forward with a division of labor I think suits our combined strengths. You've all been chosen for this Council for varying reasons. You're all highly independent with the ability and willingness to be _inter_ dependant. I'm uploading your specific portfolios to your tablets. In broad strokes, here's what I have in mind.

"Katie, you'll head Natural Sciences. Biology, geology, ecology, climate, etc. If it ever was, is or will be alive, it's yours. That will overlap with Medical Sciences.

"Jennifer and Carson, share the medical duties however you wish but your brief is mind-and-body, including psychology, anthropology, sociology, ascension. Humanitarian endeavors.

"Raddic, you'll head Practical Sciences - technology, engineering, computing. Your team will operate in cooperation with all the science departments.

"As will Rodney, being the Director of Theory, Research & Development. His team will generate new ideas and help come up with solutions while Rodney himself focuses on astrophysics, partical theory, quantum mechanics and the like.

"Evan is Head of Security and Support. If it's inside the Polar Front, it falls under his jurisdiction. Safety, regulation, arbitration. And if you have any complaints about the cafeteria food, he'll pass it along to the mess hall staff."

Sheppard asks, "Housekeeping?"

Lorne jokes, "A chocolate on every pillow." Sheppard throws him a 'nice one' look.

Ville continues, "Richard's executive portfolio consists of Legal, Finance, Administration and Ambassador at large. He and John will work in tandem on trade agreements, international relations and the like. John is also the military liason; if it's outside the Polar Front, it's his problem but obviously he and Lorne will work in tandem as well. Nothing passes in or out of this city without their involvement. John is generally responsible for the city's day to day operations as my back-up."

"Whoa, whoa, I thought that was my job?" McKay interrupts.

Ville lightly touches him arm. "I don't want you to be limited in scope. You're still the go-to genius for solving all our problems."

"Figures," he uses his _I-doth-protest-too-much_ voice.

Beckett asks, "And you, my dear? Besides keeping the lights on, I mean?"

Ville enthuses, "I'll continue exploring and reclaiming the parts of the city we never had a chance to attend to and for that I will call on your teams, Raddic."

"Of course."

"To start, I'll continue stress testing the infrastructure but I'd like to get the lower jumper bay in working order."

"The underwater bay?" several people ask at once, to which McKay adds, "Which is actually surrounded by ice, not water."

Ville places her hands flat on the table in anticipation. "Yes. We have just now confirmed... _living_ organisms in the liquid water under the ice."

Brown gasps excitedly, " _Really_?! Oh, but we can't take a jumper down there!"

Zelenka quickly joins in, "No, no, but we can launch r.o.v.s from the lower bay, drilling small tunnels through the ice without destabilising the crystal matrix and in the process - instant ice core samples!" He waves his arms in triumph.

Brown gushes, "That would be great, Raddic!"

Pleased with himself, Zelenka shrugs it off, "It would be nothing, no problem whatsoever."

McKay groans, "Oh, please." Keller and Sheppard share a smirk at his expense.

Ville rises and circles around to the opposite end of the table, the point of the triangle between Doctors Brown and Zelenka. "Before we all go running off to our various pursuits, there is a situation that you need to be made aware of for the sake of trust amoung us. Please know that this information was not withheld from you for any injurious or malignant purpose. It's a deeply personal, spiritual matter that John has agreed to let me share with you." She begins to tell the story Lorne has heard the beginning of, that Beckett was obliviously party to, that led to the behaviour arousing Wolsey's suspicions and Keller's tentative misgivings.

As she quietly explains the situation and her role in it, Sheppard avoids eye contact, sitting hunched and biting the inside of his lip, clearly and painfully uncomfortable, dreading his friends' reactions.

The mental reaction that stood out immediately was Zelenka's. _'Incredible.'_

Beckett's, like Lorne's, is one of dismay and a sense of failure. The others' fall somewhere in between, a mixture of sympathy, wonder, apprehension. The hardest is McKay's reaction, like a physical sensation slamming into Sheppard from a few feet away. McKay also avoids everyone's eyes, blinking rapidly, wondering why he didn't see it, questioning their relationship, a sense of betrayal. Without a word he bolts from the room.

"John?" Ville asks gently, "Do you want to tell the rest of the story? What you experienced?"

He shifts uncomfortably. "I...I don't think I'm ready to talk about it," he apologises, excuses himself and leaves the room.

The others share or contemplate their own thoughts. Ville draws Beckett aside. "Carson, I am so sorry. I never meant to deceive you."

Still stunned, he attempts a joke, "And there I was lecturing _you_ on patient confidentiality."

She assures him, "You did everything humanly possible."

"Aye, but he was beyond human help, wasn't he? I thought you weren't supposed to interfere in natural human development."

"He reached out for help. Carson, I know you understand. Was I wrong not to turn my back on him?"

Beckett shakes his head, "No, luv, I don't think so. It's just that it's never easy losing a patient, even if I didn't discover it until almost a year after the fact. I'm glad the Colonel survived. To be honest, I don't think I could imagine the city without him."

"Neither could I."


	24. Boon Buddies

Sheppard's in no hurry to get where he's going. Miserably walking the halls, he ignores the passersby and makes sure they don't notice him. Burying his hands deep in his pockets, he wonders like hell what to say to Rodney.

There's no question he's going to McKay's lab - where else would Rodney go when he's upset or troubled and needs to feel in control? When he's anxious or nervous, he goes to the cafeteria for comfort food or to the infirmary with some psychosomatic ailment. When he's miserable, he goes to the control room and finds someone to insult, berate or whine at. When he's depressed, he hibernates until he gets hungry or has one of his genius ideas. When he's angry he goes off into some distant part of the city to work on something challenging, by himself, uninterrupted.

And so in his lab, McKay sits hunched over his computer tablet pecking away at various files, looking for something to spark his interest and take his mind off...whatever. He slams the tablet down on the table and goes to the dry erase board. Nothing jumps out at him so he grabs the eraser and begins revising, only to erase everything again. Fine. Whatever. He plops down on a lab stool and sulks. "This is ridiculous," he gripes and stands up again, searching for something to occupy his mind.

"Hey, Rodney." Sheppard stands off to one side of the door, "How you doin', buddy?"

"Don't," McKay barks, trying to shut down the discussion before it begins. "I don't want to hear it. I don't want to talk about it."

Sheppard grimaces. "You don't even wanna bitch and moan about it? Not even _a little_?"

"Oh, I am way beyond that. You know what? Screw you and get the hell out of my lab!"

"Come on, Rodney, what are you really mad about?"

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe I thought we were friends!"

"We are."

"Are we?"

"What're you talkin' about?"

"First, Carson was staying behind. Then when you said you're weren't coming back to Earth? I'm not sure whether I felt...betrayed or envious. I don't know if you've noticed or not but I don't make friends...lightly. Or easily. Or at all. I'm a bit of an acquired taste, actually, as difficult as that may be to believe. Anyway, suddenly all of my closest friends were staying in Pegasus. Except Jennifer, of course, but that's different."

"Rodney, not _everything_ is about you. I didn't know until the last minute; I had about 30 minutes to decide how to spend the rest of my existence."

"And yet, here you are. Showed up less than four weeks after we left. What took you so long?" McKay snipes.

"Actually, from my perspective, it was over forty years."

"What are you talking about?"

"Remember when I got stuck in that sanctuary place? I was there six months before you guys got me out, but for you only hours passed. It was like that. You not having me around for a few weeks, from your perspective, doesn't even come close to what I experienced. Living in an empty city with a only handful of people passing through. Not being able to go off world for more than a few hours at a time. Discovering new things that I didn't have anybody to share with."

"You had Ville," McKay replies. "What more did you need?"

Sheppard rolls his eyes. "Yeah, but that's different. I mean, Teyla was just suspicious, Carson was busy with his fieldwork and research and Ronon? Wasn't even impressed."

"What? You're kidding. Think of the all cool stuff you could do now. Where's his sense of adventure?"

"I know! Can you believe it?" Sheppard enthuses.

Suddenly McKay begins snapping his fingers and crows, "You missed me! Didn't you? Admit it!"

"I wouldn't _characterise_ it like that."

Inordinately pleased with himself, McKay pronounces, "You did! You always did have a certain childish need to try to prove yourself against someone way smarter than yourself."

"Oh, yeah? I dove off the pier and swam all the way to the hyperdrive housing without any equipment whatsoever. I'd like to see you try that," Sheppard brags.

Rodney frowns, "Why in the world would anybody want to do that? Alright, Mr. Fantastic, what else can you do?"

"I've been thinking about that. The next thing I wanna try is jumping from the central tower and learning to fly on the way down."

"What? That's nuts. We should start with one of the shorter towers. Too bad we're not on the ocean - in case you needed to abort you could make a water landing. You haven't by any chance found any more of those personal shields lying around, have you?"

"I don't _need_ a shield, Rodney."

They're already on their way out the door even as they iron out the details, negotiate the criteria for declaring success and how much to bet on the outcome.


	25. Every Artist A Cannibal, Every Poet a Th

When the U.N. confirms official recognition of Atlantis' independence, it was almost anti-climatic. Coincidentally, the Vatican releases a non-commital statement, but from a cardinal, not His Holiness. Nevertheless, demand for Ville's appearances peaks again.

Lorne wants Sara Thompson to arrange more press conference style appearances rather than television. "Less travel, more control."

Sara disagrees, "More control for the media comglomerates. The coverage is too limited. If we want to reach Susie Q. Public, we have to do Oprah, Donahue, GMA, and similar shows internationally. Those formats are more conducive to the message we want to send."

"No, no, absolutely not. Live audiences are out of the question."

"You're tying my hands here, Evan. Even the Pope meets the masses."

"She's not delivering benediction, Sara."

Ville muses, "How about a documentary? Offered to the public television networks initially, avoid commercial interests altogether."

"No advertising - great idea for later. Right now we need penetration while the U.N. announcement is at the top of the news cycle."

Gazing out over the gate room, Ville moves their conversation to occupy a small part of her thoughts. Below, a stocky, stout fellow approaches the Stargate, studying it as a piece of artwork, admiring the material, the design's lines and curves. She can almost hear what he's thinking. She ensures that she remains veiled from his sight. His friends have other interests. The 'techy stuff' of the control room, the architecture, the city's environmental impact. John answers questions succinctly, sharing just enough information to be accommodating while withholding just enough to preserve city's inherent mystery.

John had called her about this particular request to view the city, just one of many that pass through his hands, figuratively speaking, every day. He dispatches them quickly, having figured out how to tick them off with a thought, yes or no, directly on the city's computer core while he goes about his daily 'rounds'. Lorne looks 'em over and hands out the assignments to his boys. 'Look, ma, no paperwork.'

This request was different. For one thing, it tripped a flag that he didn't even know existed that simply said "Consult first." Ville had apparently inserted a list of names to be checked against all entry requests. So. He consulted.

Leaning against her desk, he had said, "Normally, I'd reject it out of hand but now I'm curious."

"Who is it?" she'd asked.

"Uh, some music group, Irish passports. Should I be worried about ex-IRA?"

"Hardly," with a wicked smile, she had warned him, "Just small men with big ideas."

"You want _me_ to personally to show these guys around."

"Please. And John? Make sure I'm not part of the tour."

Now she watches Sheppard escorting them to the infirmary for a routine medical scan via a corridor off the gate area. Ville projects part of herself to follow.

At one juncture, the youngest lags behind, temporarily out of sight of the others. She watches him wistfully. "Hello, Larry." No matter how much he ages, he still startles easily and a bit self-consciousnessly, like a kid. Ville reassures him, "It's a big place. Pretty easy to get turned around. I'm Ville by the way," she extends her hand. He merely raises his hand and says, "Hi. Ahem, I think lost my tour."

"That's alright. So what do you think of our city so far?"

"It's big," he agrees. "Sort of out of the way."

"Yeah, well, that was kinda the point." She signals to someone behind her. "The S.O. here will take you back to the group. I'm glad we got to see each other."

"Yeah. Uhm, thanks for lettin' us come."

With a nod, she turns and walks away. Reaching out to John, she asks a favor. _'I'd appreciate it if you'd fly them back to Perth yourself.'_

 _'You want to allow non-Atlanteans on a jumper?'_

 _'Show off your flying skills. Maybe they'll write a song about it.'_

 _'They want to sketch the Stargate so they can have a copy sculpted. Something about putting it in the living room at their house in the south of France. You want to let them do that, too?'_

 _'I don't think that's such a good idea.'_

 _'I agree.'_

 _'It'd be tacky; I don't care how big the room is.'_


	26. Here

Later at dinner, he asks, "So which one was he?" He sips a glass of wine while she ignores the question. "Okay. How about this _Icarus_ thing you and Rodney were talking about?"

"Rodney thinks the reference to flight could mean a ship."

"He said you dreamed about it. Something about rushing destiny?"

"That's essentially the story, isn't it? Icarus rushing past the limits of wisdom, meets his destiny, ends up being immortalised in the stars."

"And the nine?"

"Nine was a special number of note, being three threes. Atlantis incorporates some instances of nine in its architecture, have you noticed?"

"Not to mention nine chevrons on the gate. Local galactic addresses are seven symbols and intergalactic addresses are eight symbols, so what's the ninth for? Maybe your subconscious is trying to work that out and that's why you're dreaming about it."

"My subconscious?" she asks in playful tone.

"If there's such a thing as subspace, why can't Ascended beings have a subconscious?" He gives her a _keep-dodging-my-questions-and-I-can-keep-this-up-all-night_ look.

"You're like a kid, you know that?" she teases him.

"Well, with so much to learn, it's like having Christmas every day. I never know what I'll discover next."

"Then you should understand how rare and precious Mystery is for those of us that've been around a little longer." She dips her finger in the creme brulee and tastes it slowly. "Mmm, this is good."

"I may not have been around as long as some but it strikes me that you're just a little bit obsessed with this."

"It's a thought exercise. Nothing more."

"Then I would think," he dips his finger in la creme and offers it to her, "you would want to savor it as long as possible," he suggests languidly. With mischief in her eye, she leans forward slightly and gently takes his finger in her mouth without looking away and sucks at la creme as she draws back. A smile plays on his mouth, "You're right. That _is_ good." Her laughter rings like fine crystal in his ears. It's a sound he hasn't heard in awhile.

He begs off any after dinner activities. "I want to practice multi-tasking and, uhm, the sight of your beautiful naked body is not very conducive to my concentration."

"Imagine that," she teases.

"I'm trying not to," he replies in mock seriousness, "That's the point."

She kisses him lightly and bids him goodnight with a _I-know-you're-up-to-something-and-you-know-I-know-so-what-are-you-up-to_ look but she's entirely too ethical to push into his thoughts and pull it out of him. He knows that about her.

After she's gone, he dips his finger into the creme brulee and tastes it. "Oh, that _is_ good, John." He wasn't lying about practicing multi-tasking. He projects himself in two different directions at once.

 _...sauntering into Rodney's lab._

"Do you have any idea how loud you think?" Sheppard asks.

"Hmm? Oh, it's you." McKay starts to turn back to his laptop. "Wait, what do you mean?"

"When you're deep in thought, like you were just now, your mind kind of bubbles over. A less than ethical person with the ability to do so could easily pick up on what you're thinking."

"Oh," McKay smarts off, "I'll try to keep it down. What are you doing down here?"

"I heard you working on your wormhole drive," Sheppard mentions casually, ignoring McKay's consternation. "What happened to the jumper drive?"

"Zelenka's working up a second prototype. It won't be ready for testing for another couple of days."

"So what's the range of this so-called wormhole drive?"

"The same as any Stargate. Distance correlates to the amount of energy you can pump into it. That's why we needed a ZPM to get to Pegasus from Earth in the first place."

"Not to mention an eighth symbol."

"Exactly. Which works like a function in an equation, probably a distance factor although some, who are less brilliant than I am, think it is a power multiplier which is plainly ridiculous. The Ancients were not prone to making things more difficult than necessary such as requiring the calibration of a variable power source against distance in order to determine the extra symbol."

"When you don't even know if the knob goes to ten or eleven," Sheppard nods.

"Excuse me?"

"So what would a ninth symbol do?"

"Ah! Now _that_ is a fascinating debate. Some argue that a nine symbol address should take us to an alternate universe but wormholes by definition are tunnels through spacetime and each universe has its own spacetime continuum. As my work with matter bridges demonstrated, bridging two different continuums is inherently unstable. The gate system is built to avoid instability.

"Another theory is that the ninth symbol should take us to another time. After all, we'd be connecting to the same continumm, right? Nice try but no, no, no, my friend. One of the gate system's dialing protocols specifically precludes establishing a wormhole in the vicinity of a solar flare which we know causes the wormhole to jump in time. We also know the Ancients frowned upon the work Janos was doing with time travel. Why would they allow the Stargates to time travel? Answer : they wouldn't."

Sheppard asks, "What if the destination is a moving target? Like a ship with a Stargate on board?"

"Yes, yes, yes, exactly the theory I've been proposing except I, uh, well, just haven't quite worked out all the details quite yet." McKay runs out of steam finally.

Sheppard wonders, "What if it's a transponder code? Like an IDC or the IFFs our ships broadcast to identify themselves?

"You still need to figure out the first six symbols that represent the destination. That presupposes we already know the exact location of the ship in which case why would we need a ninth symbol at all?"

"Yeah, good point," Sheppard agrees, clearly deep in thought. "Ville has enough power to dial and connect to a nine symbol address, right?"

"Well, in an emergency, I suppose. I don't know how long she could sustain it or how long it would take her to recover afterwards."

"Recover? What do you mean?"

"Entropy. On a small scale, she's like a battery. She expends energy; she recharges her reserve. On a larger scale, the more energy she expends, the longer it takes to recharge the battery. She can't recharge all at once - that would speed up entropy in the universe. She has to take time to borrow a little bit here, a little bit there, a little bit now, a little bit later..."

"A small enough difference as to make no difference at all," Sheppard recalls to himself.

Oblivious, McKay continues right along, "Now if she were to expend her entire reserve in one go for some reason? That's like running the battery down one too many times. With the rate of expansion, eventually there's not enough energy left in the universe to recharge. And even if there was, it would only accelerate the expansion of the universe which grows colder and darker until all the energy's gone and everything just stops. Total entropy."

"So if the battery's dead there's no way to jump start it without speeding up the natural expansion of the universe," Sheppard muses.

Discomfited, McKay answers, "I just said that. Why? You think she wants to dial a nine symbol address?"

"I don't know. It has something to do with that _Icarus_ thing, whatever it is."

"Oh, no, no, no, that would be very bad for Atlantis."

"Tell me about it. I could probably power the shield long enough for you to adapt the city to the climate, but then we'd have to sacrifice the shield to power everything else. Or I might be able to fly us to a more suitable clime, probably the Pacific Ocean. There we'd only need the shield for defense."

"Defense? From who?"

Sheppard uses his _I'll-try-to-point-out-the-obvious-in-a-non-obvious-way-so-as-not-to-embarrass-you_ voice, "Rodney, one of the reasons we're _in_ Antartica is because of the non-agression pact in the ATS. Any military intervention violates the treaty system. Why do you think we keep the drone storage off limits to everyone except the Council?"

In a small voice, McKay says, " _Be_ -cause they're dangerous."

"Exactly. Which _could_ be interpreted as a violation of the non-aggression pact. In order for Atlantis to survive in Antarctica without Ville, we'd need a hell of a lot of insulation and there's no Home Depot down here at the bottom of the world."


	27. And There

_...simultaneously, in Wolsey's quarters_

Wolsey offers Sheppard a bourbon which Sheppard sniffs appreciatively before tasting. "That is excellent."

"I can be a little more liberal with it now that we're back on Earth. Resupply is just another continent away rather than another galaxy."

"And I thought you just liked me," Sheppard quips and raises his glass.

Wolsey motions him to sit. "You know, John, I probably never expressed to you how much I appreciated your acceptance of my command in Pegasus. To be honest, you were far more supportive than I had expected."

"Well, breaking in new commanders was part of the job description. One the IOA forgot to inform me of but still it was a nice change of pace in between fighting bad guys."

Wolsey smiles. "I'm glad we have the chance to work together again."

"Really? Even though the roles are reversed?" Sheppard asks pointedly.

Wolsey raises his eyebrow. "I wouldn't say reversed. Just new job descriptions."

"Good point."

"So, I take it this isn't entirely a social call."

"There is something I was hoping you could help me with," Sheppard admits. "You had access to everything about the Stargate program, right?"

"Yes, but I'm no longer current for obvious reasons."

"Yeah, I always suspected the Pentagon was run by a buncha dicks. No offense."

"Funny. So what do you want to know?"

"You ever hear of anything called _Icarus_?"

Wolsey concentrated a moment, "Mmm. Ah yes, _Icarus_ base. It was just being established when I received command of Atlantis. Let's see, SG-17 discovered Ancient ruins on JS151967. Dr. Rush recovered and translated some interesting texts..."

"Rush?"

"Yes, Dr. Rush was lead scientist on the team. The texts he translated referred to an incredible power source on the planet's volcanic moon; they thought they'd found another ZPM. The _Odyssey_ was dispatched to assist, they discovered a facility designed to draw geothermal energy from the moon itself. This facility also had a Stargate."

"Two Stargates that close together?"

"Exactly. When the team tried to dial Earth with the Icarus gate, they couldn't establish an outgoing wormhole. They got the geothermal power up and running, tried Earth again and numerous other addresses with no results. The SGC tried dialing in but the wormhole always connected to the gate on JS151967, never the Icarus gate.

"Dr. Rush made a case for setting up a base to study _Icarus_ ; Colonel Carter concurred. They tried endless permutations of eight symbols but nothing worked. Rush was floating a theory that it required a nine symbol address but I think he was just desparate to keep the project going. Right before we left Pegasus, the SGC was about to pull the plug on the whole thing."

"Do you know if Dr. Rush is still with the SGC?"

"Sorry, no clue. Is it important? I still have some old contacts at the NID..."

"No, no. Save them in case we ever need a real favor. I think I gotta another source I can go to."

"May I ask what this about, John?"

Sheppard finishes his drink and rises, "Just something Rodney and Ville ran across in one of the research databases. I thought it'd turn out to be nothing but maybe this Rush guy knows something."

Wolsey walks him to the door. "A joint project with the SGC _would_ strengthen our position respective to the U.S. government. A successful venture might entice the Senate to transition the SGC to Atlantis."

"Yeah, so they can go back to handing out the money to defense contractors who charge a thousand bucks for a toilet seat."

"I hear they're heated," Wolsey jokes sardonically.

Sheppard extends his hand, "Thanks for the drink, Richard, and the info."

"You're welcome," Wolsey accepts the handshake.

"For what it's worth, it's nice having the team back together again. 'Night."

As the door closes, Wolsey grins and shakes his head. "Now, I wonder what the hell that was really about?"


	28. Mr Sheppard Goes To Washington

Sitting in a coffee shop near 8th and D Streets, he blends in with the budding activist crowd - wearing his broken-in L. L. Beans, jeans so long they make him look far shorter than he actually is and a rumpled, long sleeve button-down shirt under a non-descript black blazer with his aviator sunglasses hanging on the breast pocket. He's dressed as if, when he got up this morning, he couldn't decide between the 'rumpled rock star' look or the 'high class bum.' Since it's D.C. the bum might be more appropriate.

He hopes his projection in Atlantis is convincing but he asked Lorne to cover for him just in case. He didn't tell Lorne where he was going or who he was going to see. Lorne's too smart for that and Sheppard doesn't want to put him in the position of having to decide. If forced to choose, he's not sure which side Lorne would come down on - Sheppard's or Ville's.

He glances at his watch and leaves money for the waitress on the table. Stepping outside, he slips on the sunglasses and takes a walk over to the Mall. He chooses a nice bench in Constitution Gardens near one of the reflecting pools. Twenty minutes later, Jack O'Neill approaches. Sheppard rises to greet him, "Thanks for meeting me, General."

Sitting, O'Neill cuts to the chase. "You said something over the phone about 'her'?"

"Yeah." Sheppard rests his arms on the bench back and takes in the view. "She's got this bug up her skirt about something called 'Icarus'. Lorne thought you might know some details I need filled in."

"Ask her."

"She doesn't want to talk about it - at least not to me. My guess is she thinks I can talk her out of...whatever this thing is."

O'Neill frowns. "She'll drop it. Eventually."

"Really? Those were her _exact_ words : 'I'll drop it eventually'?"

Grimacing, O'Neill casually sweeps the area, "No."

Sheppard looks over at him. "You're a busy man, so I'll make this as succinct as possible." He says nothing more.

Shooting him an annoyed look, O'Neill weighs the issue. Like himself, Sheppard is ex-Special Ops. The kid knows how to keep a secret, but "I heard you renounced your citizenship."

"Wanna see my visa?"

Sighing, O'Neill warns him, "This is classified Above Top Secret" and proceeds to give Sheppard just enough detail to suggest Ville's possible interest in the matter.

"That's what I was afraid of." Now it's Sheppard's turn to grimace. "I think we can both agree it would be better if she didn't get involved?" When O'Neill gives him a very succinct look, he adds, "I'll see what I can do."

"You know, Sheppard, I don't envy you that part of your job."

Sheppard stands up and looks around. "Didn't it used to be your job, sir?"

"Exactly." O'Neill rises and shakes Sheppard's hand. "Good luck. You're gonna need it," he predicts cynically.


	29. Date With Destiny?

Back in her office, Ville's not convinced. Sheppard's too distant, distracted, not like himself at all. "John, what are you doing?"

"Sitting. Thinking. Mostly sitting," he confesses.

She watches him closely. "I need to leave the city for awhile. I'm confident you and Rodney can handle anything that might come up?"

"No promises," he quips absently. "Where're you going?"

She's evasive, "Just something I need to see for myself."

His expression tightens, his eyes narrow, "Really?" Folding her arms, she cynically welcomes him back. "Thank you. You know I was just having the most fascinating conversation with General O'Neill." With an explosive motion, she springs from her seat and walks away. "About a ship named _Destiny_ ," Sheppard continues speaking to her back, "launched hundreds of millions of years ago by the Gate builders."

She gazes out over the Stargate, calculating power requirements. "You can understand my interest then."

"This is what your father did, isn't it? Sacrificing himself and leaving everything, including you, behind."

Turning, she asks him incredulously, "How dare you?"

"There are less than a hundred people aboard that ship," Sheppard points out cold-bloodedly.

"We've had this conversation before, you and I. Who to help, who not to help."

"And knowing who you can save and who you _can't_. That ship is billions of light years away. Even you would have a hard time getting there, let alone being able to do anything for them in their lifetime when we need you here..."

"No, John, you don't..."

"... _Atlantis_ needs you here..."

"You're their Protector. Use your resources. You have Rodney and Jennifer and Richard - you're not alone; you don't have do everything yourself."

"...and _Earth_ needs you here. I can protect Atlantis, hell, I can almost run Atlantis but _you_ are the one that inspires those people out there," he points beyond the shield. " _You_ give them hope. You cannot abandon these people, billions of people right here on this planet. I won't let you."

"My choice, John. I'm going and you can't stop me." She relocates to the gate room.

He places himself between her and the Stargate. "Doesn't mean I can't try."

The gate begins dialing to the consternation of the tech staff. They can't override the DHD. Someone summons McKay and Lorne.

Sheppard focuses on trying to stop the chevrons from locking. She gently pushes his efforts aside and continues. "Stop this. I'm stronger than you."

He reaches out to her, concentrating his thoughts, his emotions, his will, the fury deep inside...

"What do you _want_ from me?!" she demands, "You were willing to let me go once before."

"That was when you running _to_ something, to _someone_."

"I am going to _Destiny_ to help those people!"

His voice rises, "No, you're not. You're running away. Again. Just like you always do, isn't that right?"

"Don't you dare," she warns him dangerously.

"Only where you're going this time - there's no pay phones," Sheppard presses forward. "I'm not gonna let you do it."

"What the hell is going on here?" McKay storms down the steps toward them and the gate as the ninth chevron engages.

"Rodney!" Sheppard makes a sweeping motion. McKay's body flies across the floor. Too late to activate the shield, Sheppard turns to the gate and raises his hand, attempting to block the vortex which sweeps over him.

"Oh, my god. Sheppard!" McKay yells and struggles to his feet.

 _Flat on his back. Again. The white cloud washes over him. There's no clouds in his city. She appears and places her hand over his chest. Again._

He groans, "This is the _worst_ case of deja vue EVER."

"Sheppard! Are you alright?" McKay bends down next to him.

Sheppard grimaces as he struggles to get his elbows under him. The gate attempts to activate but disengages for lack of power. He flops over on his back again.

Ville stands over him. "That was foolish, John. And risky."

"Yeah," he agrees. "Remind me not to do that again."

McKay asks, "Can you get up?"

"I think so. Give me a hand, will ya?" McKay steadies him as he stumbles to his feet. "I feel like I've got a hangover from a party I don't even remember getting invited to," he complains.

"Why aren't you vaporised or something?" McKay demands to know.

"Thanks, Rodney, I appreciate the concern."

Ville answers McKay's question. "He absorbed the energy from the vortex."

Sheppard points an accusing finger at her, or in her general direction anyway. "That's what _you_ were planning to do, wasn't it? Use the energy from the vortex as a boost?"

"Yes. I was," she admits frankly.

Queasy, Sheppard mumbles, "I think I need to see Beckett." He moves in an unsteady fashion.

"Rodney, please, go with him."

Sheppard turns back slightly even as he walks forward. "This isn't over. Lorne, stay with her and don't let her out of your sight." McKay grabs him as he veers too close to the wall. Facing the right direction again, he staggers off with McKay, "I feel _terrible_."

Lorne comes to stand beside her. They exchange expressions and knowing full well Sheppard's instructions are impossible, Lorne says, "You're not going to give me any trouble are you?"

"No." She promises not to leave his sight. The McKay/Sheppard bickering recedes into the distance.

"How can you be hungover..."

"I said I _feel_ hungover."

"...when you're not even corporeal - Ow!"

"Did that _feel_ corporeal to you?"

"Well, you don't have to hit me! What do you expect Beckett to do?"

"A scan for one thing. I think my molecules got scrambled or something."

"That's ridiculous..."


	30. Intervention

"That's ridiculous," Sheppard complains to Beckett. "I was standing in front of the gate when the wormhole opened."

"He took a vortex to the face, Carson," McKay seconded.

"Well, I'm sorry, Colonel, but according to these scans, you're perfectly healthy. And I do mean perfectly."

"You mean like _Chaia-perfectly-healthy_?"

"Yes. I'm afraid I may not be the kind of doctor you need. I assume it's because this...body is an avatar."

"So why do I feel like I got hit by a truck?" Sheppard grumbles.

"I told you. We need to get you to my lab."

"No offense, Rodney, but your bedside manner _sucks_."

"Don't be such a child."

* * *

Wolsey stalks the conference room where he has joined Lorne, McKay, Sheppard and Ville. "What the blazes did the two of you think you were doing?"

Sheppard sinks into his chair, ill-looking. Ville sits next to him composed and calm. Rodney is leaning as far away from the both of them as possible.

"You violated security protocols and hijacked the Stargate. You could've killed Dr. McKay. I'm told you were bickering like children in front of the control room staff." Wolsey continues circling the council table. "You are both senior members of this council not to mention the two most powerful beings in the city or perhaps even on the planet! What were you thinking?"

"I apologise, Richard. We were reacting not thinking," Ville agrees.

"For what it's worth, Rodney wasn't in any real danger from either of us."

"Dr. Beckett says he has two bruised ribs," Wolsey disagrees.

"Bruised. Not broken," Sheppard emphasizes.

"That's hardly the point. This just underscores what I've been saying from the beginning. There needs to be a clear hierarchy."

Sheppard protests, "There _is_. You all said you wanted to trust me to make the hard choices."

"In case of division amoungst the council..."

"There was _no time_ to call a meeting," Sheppard protests.

"Stop it, please," Ville begs. "This is precisely the in-fighting I hoped to avoid."

Lorne speaks up. "The only in-fighting here seems to have been between the two of you. Either of you care to share?"

"It is a personal matter."

"She wants to run off on some half-assed rescue attempt...," Sheppard sees the look Ville gives him, "Hey, this is _not_ about me; I only fly suicide missions as a last resort."

"What?" Wolsey asks horrified.

"I can't commit 'suicide', John. It would violate the second law of thermodynamics."

"She's right, you know," McKay points out.

"It might as well be, from our standpoint." Sheppard explains to Wolsey and Lorne, "Her consciousness could be completely dispersed, unable to communicate. She might even cease to be self-aware. If that's not suicide, it's damn close." The idea was clearly disturbing to everyone except Ville.

"Says the man who's been ascended for over a whole year now," Ville says a bit condescendingly.

"Everything is relative. That's the first thing you taught me."

"Can we all just take a step back for a moment?" Lorne requests. To Wolsey, he says, "I agree there should be a hierarchy but I don't recall voting on that."

"There were only five of us at the time," Wolsey answers.

Ville elaborates, "There was a concern regarding power sharing. I asked to be a non-voting member unless a deadlock occurs within the rest of the Council."

"Yet we also realised there are situations that require decisive, unilateral action," Sheppard counters, "so we took a vote."

"And we voted three to one that we would entrust Colonel Sheppard with that responsibility," Wolsey says.

McKay grouses, "That was before we knew about his super powers."

"For the record, I did not vote for myself. So again, I did what I did today because there wasn't time for discussion. I was the only one with a chance of stopping her so I acted."

Wolsey gestures, "So. You two couldn't work it out. You should've come to one or more of us for mediation."

"It's a personal matter," Ville insists.

Lorne asks, "Why not let her leave?" Everyone goes quiet waiting for someone else to answer him. "She's not a prisoner. Why shouldn't she be able to leave Atlantis if that's what she wants? We tell the world this venture is about human evolution and expanding our potential. Aren't we being hypocritical relying on numinous beings to save our asses?"

McKay counters, "We're not relying on them to carry out the mission, just to make sure the city can function well enough to support our efforts. And like it or not, Ville is the head of state - I don't know where you all thought this whole sovereign issue was going - but she is just a figurehead. No offense."

"None taken."

"Then let's bring the chain of command issue back before the Council for a vote," Lorne suggests.

"Evan is right," Wolsey concurs, then wryly suggests, "In the meantime, you two might want to consider couples counseling."


	31. The Wanderer

_They meet on the Beach. The veils of her dress dance with the wind as she approaches. He relaxes in the lee of a sand dune, lounging in his clam diggers and flip flops. His surfboard is planted in the sand nearby in case any serious breakers appear on the horizon. A cooler is dug into the dune within arm's reach, full of Negro Modelos on ice._

 _'All that's missing is Jimmy Buffet,' she observes._

 _'And my lost shaker of salt.'_

 _'Ah, so there's a woman to blame.' She folds onto the sand next to him._

 _His raises his sunglasses and glances over, 'I'm thinking misplaced guilt. Maybe an Electra complex...'_

 _'That you would think that applies is somewhat disturbing to me.'_

 _He squints back out over the ocean and shrugs. 'I'm just saying. Dads are tough. A kid should be able to think his - or her - dad is Superman and everything's alright as long as he's around. When it turns out he's not a superhero, the world becomes a scarier place and we realise we're basically on our own.'_

 _'What happened between you and your dad?'_

 _'My parents separated when I was three, Dave was eight. Divorce was frowned upon in their social circle, not to mention politically disadvantageous, so basically my mom moved into the condo in Aspen where we were allowed to visit her on holidays. Dad, being rich and influential, made sure he got sole custody and kept us in California the rest of the year.'_

 _'If they never divorced how could he have sole custody?'_

 _'Did I forget to mention he was rich and influential?'_

 _'He separated you from your mother.'_

 _'He just made everything so damn hard.' He turns his attention to her. 'What about you?'_

 _'I guess you could say I had a mother and a father rolled into one.'_

 _'Now that I find disturbing.'_

 _She smiles in remembrance and lies back against the sand next to him. 'I never questioned the reason for my existence. My father was a powerful being of energy and light. He shaped us, coaxed us into sentience. We followed him, emulated his forms._

 _'My sisters chose to explore the universe on their own but I went to Earth with him. He taught me about humans, how to interact with them, how to respect them. I understood that we were different and needed to observe certain boundaries._

 _'We traveled to every center of human civilisation : Jiahu in China, Ur in Sumaria, Egypt, Babylonia, Athens, Vedic India, the Olmec city of Tenochtitlan, Teotihuacan._

 _'He became known as a Great Teacher. He loved teaching. Everything he did and said made perfect sense to his pupils. They loved him. Almost as much as I did._

 _'In Roman occupied Judea, he also became known as a Healer and thousands flooded in to see him. That's what drew their attention to him.'_

 _'Who?'_

 _'The rich and influential - they feared a peasant uprising. The Roman governor - he feared the Emperor would remove him or lay waste to the entire region. There were Messianic movements everywhere and the people were growing tired of waiting.'_

 _Sheppard shifts uncomfortably, 'Is this going where I think it's going?'_

 _'No. Those stories you know are not about my father. They were designed later to bolster a new social sect as it struggled for legitimacy. All he wanted was a better life for the poor, to champion the common man. He surrendered himself to the authorities to spare his followers. I begged him not to go._

 _'What I didn't realise was that his return to Earth wasn't voluntary. The Ascended had exiled him back to this plane of existence as punishment for creating us.'_

 _'He was human again.'_

 _'As he died, they allowed him to ascend again.'_

 _'You thought he abandoned you voluntarily.'_

 _'I didn't know he could die,' she whispers. 'Isn't that what children do? Assume their fathers will always be there for them?'_

 _'Yeah,' he nods. 'But what I don't understand is, what's that got to do with this rescue mission?'_

 _'I do want to help those people, John. You are right though. There is a chance it might not work.'_

 _'So why risk it?'_

 _'After your father died, did you ever wish that you could speak to him one last time? To express regret? To forgive him maybe? To settle things and make peace?'_

 _'You can't contact your father?'_

 _'No. Not long after, I began shifting from one life to another seemingly at random. At first, I thought I was being pulled from one reality to another by...something beyond my control. Fate.'_

 _'That's why you thought you didn't have a choice. You didn't know you were...searching for him?'_

 _'Every now and then I still try again," she points to the choppy ocean, "surfing the quantum foam, tunneling through space and time. Trying to pick up a thought. A feeling. A sensation. Something familar.'_

 _'That's understandable but do you really think he'd want you to lose yourself searching for him?'_

 _'Do you know how long it's been?'_

 _'I don't know much about Jiahu or Ur, but I know Babylon was a long time ago.'_

 _'Yeah. And everything is relative.' The waves of sorrow come rushing ashore._

 _His voice turns warm and gentle with a sense of wonder, 'The same things you've wanted for me, he wanted for you. He helped you take your first baby steps to self awareness. He wanted to see you grow and learn, to become a lot more than you were. And you did. He'd be crazy not to be proud of you.'_

 _'What about your dad?'_

 _'Well, I suppose, by driving me away, he helped make who I am today. Do I wish it could been different between us? Sure. But at some point, our dads have to let us go whether they want to or not.'_

 _'Or whether we want them to or not.'_

 _He shrugs. 'Yeah. I just want you to know...you're not alone anymore.'_

 _'Okay.' She leans on his shoulder. They listen to the ocean. He takes her hand and asks, 'Do you like fireworks?'_

 _She smiles. 'I love fireworks.'_

 _The sun sets. The stars come out. The sky lights up. She sings him an odd little accompaniment with a poetic lilt in her voice :_

 _"And I, like a firework, explode_

 _Roman candle, lightning, lights up the sky._

 _Side-step, sidewalk..."_

 _The show lasts exactly one hour fifteen minutes. 'Timing is everything in a good fireworks show.'_

 _'Music, too, although with music, the art of time is in knowing when to stretch it out, speed it up, slow it down, change it around, like colours on a canvas, with words that build or destroy,' she sings again :_

 _"Up through the spiral staircase to the higher ground_

 _Slide show, seaside town, Coca Cola, football radio, radio, radio..."_

 _'You like football?' he asks in mock disbelief._

 _'Go Buckeyes.'_

 _He lolls his head against the sand. 'Oh, please tell me you were not Archie Griffin's girlfriend or something.'_

 _'I did meet Uncle Woody once.'_

 _'Coach Woody Hayes? Oh, wow. Do you know how awesomely awesome that makes you?'_

 _She giggles. 'I served him coffee once in a diner. So why aren't you a Trojans fan?'_

 _'I follow the sport because I love the game. Doesn't matter where the teams are from.'_

 _'It's a metaphor.'_

 _'It is a metaphor,' he affirms with satisfaction._

 _'But not pro football?'_

 _'Those guys know how to make great moves but it's practically scripted, almost choreographed. Now, college football on the other hand has spontaneity and passion and...and surprises.'_

 _"Lots of surprises," she echoes distantly and sings quietly,_

 _"Up with the static and the radio,_

 _with satellite television, you can go anywhere, anywhere._

 _Miami. New Orleans. London, Belfast and Berlin."_

 _'He wrote that didn't he?'_

 _'Mm-hmm.'_

 _'I don't mean to ruin the moment or anything but...that doesn't seem like much of a song.'_

 _'He also wrote a song for Johnny Cash. Maybe you'd like to hear that instead?'_

 _"I went out searching, looking for one good man_

 _A spirit who would not bend or break_

 _Who would sit at his father's right hand_

 _I went out walking, with a bible and a gun_

 _The Word of God lay heavy on my heart_

 _I was sure I was the one_

 _Now, Jesus, don't you wait up_

 _Jesus, I'll be home real soon_

 _Yeah, I went out for the papers_

 _Told her I'd be back by noon_

 _Yeah, I left with nothin'_

 _but the thought you'd be there too_

 _Looking for you_

 _Yeah, I left with nothin',_

 _nothin' but the thought of you_

 _I went wandering"_

 _'Actually, that sounds like he wrote it for you. Ville?' He sees she's peacefully asleep. Satisfied, he wishes her, 'Pleasant dreams.' The ocean roars._

 _[Songs in this chapter copyright U2]_


	32. Bottom Of The World

Although the Atlantean veterns still use names like "the Southwest pier" or "the East pier," the fact is that _every_ direction is North now. For newcomers' and visitors' sake, the piers had been given additional honorary names :

Hammond Pier. For the late General George Hammond, the first commander of Stargate Command.

The Janos Pier. For the Ancient scientist who made it possible for the original expedition to survive the failure of the shield upon their arrival in Atlantis.

Pegasus Pier. For the galaxy in which the expedition found the Lost City of the Ancients.

Sumner's Pier. For Colonel Marshall Sumner, the expedition's original military commander. Sheppard insisted on the name, Wolsey and Lorne seconded it without discussion.

Mitchell Pier. Sheppard put forward this name as well but would not explain the significance. The Council members sensed his resolve and confirmed the name.

The largest of the six, considered the main pier, had been christened "The Elizabeth Weir Memorial Pier." No vote was necessary. It became known to newer residents as simply "The Weir."

McKay finds everyone on the balcony off the control room of the central tower. "Ah, Jennifer, there you are. I thought we might go have a bite...," he trails off noticing Keller and a few others have binoculars and even a telescope. "What's going on?"

Zelenka snorts, "Rodney, it's been _dark for six months_. The sun is about to rise."

With a hint of a smile, Sheppard explains, "Some of us thought we'd have a little watch party. Kinda like in Key West."

"It's just the sun. What's with the binoculars?"

Lorne merely says, "Ville is out at the end of The Weir."

Keller laughs, "She's _dancing_. So graceful, too. Here take a look."

McKay accepts and adjusts the focus. "You know if you're going to stare at the sun, these lenses really should be...oh my."

Wolsey - not using binoculars or the telescope - muses, "I think it's based on various ancient rituals used throughout _homo sapiens_ ' history to welcome back the Sun after the long dark winter."

Zelenka avails himself of the telescope for one more brief look before stepping away. "It _is_ culturally fascinating."

"Yes, it is," Katie Brown agrees exuberantly, "a celebration of life and nature."

Lorne contributes, "The play of colours is...interesting."

Sheppard, who doesn't need binoculars or a telescope, says "Personally, I just think it's hot."

McKay murmurs, "Yes, you would, wouldn't you? Uhm, is she actually...?"

Several of his colleagues chime in with some variation of "Yes."

McKay lowers the binoculars thoughtfully, "Yes, culturally fascinating," then raises them again, "and definitely hot."

Keller playfully knuckles his chest, "You silly men!"

With the return of the sun, the city's mood rises. Music plays, voices sing in the hallways - not always in key but no one cares. School children on field trips fill the halls with their laughter and animated conversation. Personal and professional projects are reaching fruition.

Wolsey walks with Sheppard. "So, how is her mood lately? Any more attempts at rash behaviour?"

"Depends on your definition of 'rash'. She's getting her arts on, starting a mural in the mess hall with Lorne - he's quite good, actually. And Dr. Brown was telling me the other day how much interest Ville is taking in the biology department - when she takes a shift in the plant room, she _sings_ to them. According to Katie, the plants love it."

Pleased, Wolsey nods. "Sara Thompson briefed me on the latest media project - a series of Joseph Campbell-style lectures for PBS. Ville reading and discussing fairy tales, fables and myths. 'Making them relevant for children of the 21st Century.' Naturally the first episode will be about Plato and Atlantis with a little Gilgamesh thrown in."

Sheppard nods, "Sounds educational. Just hope she leaves Noah out of it."

"I think Sara will agree that pissing off the new Pope would not be in the city's best interests."

"We're due to depart for that fundraiser in Hobart. Tell me again how I got stuck with this detail?"

"Because I've attended the last four in a row and the CCAMLR delegates are starting to finish my amusing anecdotes _for_ me."

"Ah. Well, it's always entertaining to watch her work a room."

"Word of advice. Don't let her spend all her time with just a few of the delegates. We want as many of them to get some face time with her so keep her moving along."

"Lorne knows what to do. Don't worry, easy-peasy."


	33. I Told You I Had An Ex?

During Ville's keynote speech, Nick Boyle sits in the audience. The seat beside him is empty, his colleague Alexandra Moreau having been summoned on short notice to a dig in Tangiers where her translation skills were urgently needed. The Cairo Legacy house were adamant; the find was too sensitive to transmit the data over a secure link. He'd complained, as her things were being loaded in the car, "What part of 'secure link' don't they get?" With a peck on the cheek, Alex assured him he'd do fine on his own. It wasn't until the Legacy jet was on the final leg of the trip that Nick examined the fundraiser program and discovered who else was going to be there.

After the talk, Nick swaggers into the reception hall ahead of the crowd and accepts a glass of champagne from one of the stewards beginning to circulate. His mission, _'should I choose to accept it'_ , is to touch base with the representatives of other foundations with deep pockets and engage in a reverse auction to see which foundation can make the biggest contribution. The Luna Foundation he represents has _very_ deep pockets, having existed for centuries in one form or another. He enjoys the brinksmanship - in the eat-or-be-eaten world of fundraising, he is damn good at it. He finds it almost as exciting as his real job.

But seeing her threw him for a loop. Hearing her voice, watching her movements, sensing the faintest shadow of her thoughts. There is no question they will cross paths at the event; the question is should he seek her out or wait for her to find him? He chooses to act; the element of surprise gives him the tactical advantage. He approachs from the rear, appreciative of the the backless dress and admiring the curves of her shoulders and spine. When her handler scans the crowd in preparation for moving her onward, Nick indicates he would like a moment and receives a nod.

"Nick!" She beams and comes to him, taking his hands between hers and darting forward for a quick kiss.

"Hey, beautiful." His grin is warm and genuine, "It's good to see you." Nick opens his thoughts to her.

Ville rubs his jaw playfully. _'The beard looks good on you.'_

 _'Thanks. Rachel keeps making me trim it though, something about being presentable...?'_

 _Her laughter rings pleasantly through his mind. 'I confess I wasn't expecting to see you.'_

 _'I wasn't expecting to see you either. Alex usually prepares me for these shindigs. Missed you, babe.'_

 _'No, you didn't,' she teases._

 _'Maybe just a little.'_ He projects nothing but love. "So where's your photogenic flyboy?"

"He is probably trading tall tales with his favorite Russian general and offering to trade some micro-brew for a case of vodka."

"I hope he's getting a good exchange rate. I hear Russian vodka just isn't the same since the Soviet collapse."

From her elbow, said photogenic flyboy confides, "It's all in who you know, my friend. John Sheppard. Pleased to meet you."

"Nick Boyle. Back at ya."

"Nick is chairman of the Luna Foundation's San Francisco chapter."

Sheppard liberates a glass of champagne. "Really? I grew up in Sonoma."

Nick says, "Vallejo. Military brat."

John guesses, "Air Force?"

Nick relaxes, "SEALS."

"You guys have some _really_ cool toys. San Francisco," John asks Ville, "Wasn't that our alternate landing site? Now I guess I know why." With a _you-are-going-to-hear-about-this-for-the-rest-of-your-life_ smirk, he sips the bubbly and scans the room casually.

Nick comes to her rescue, "So, Air Force. Pilot, right?"

"Does it show?"

"What are you rated on?"

"Some test craft that are still classified but I prefer helicopters ñ Apache, Blackhawk, Commanche, Osprey. You?"

"These days, I stretch my rudders with personal craft," he glances at Ville, "helicopter, private jet, '65 Mustang convertible."

"Sweet. Cherry red?"

"Apple red." Nick carefully examines the texture of John Sheppard's mind. Disciplined. Sharp. Quick. Smart.

John is saying to Ville, "I like this guy. We should hire him."

"I think he already has a job, John. Besides, the Antarctic is no place to drive a Mustang," she informs him in complete mock seriousness.

John makes an expansive offer, "Tell you what, Nick - may I call you Nick? After we all finish our respective ass-kissing here, why don't you come back to Atlantis with us. We'll give you the full tour. What d'ya say?"

Nick grins at John, "I think that's the best offer I've had all week," and to Ville, _'Charming.'_


	34. Toys For American Boys

Boyle was not as impressed with the jumper as Sheppard had expected so he made extra effort to give his guest an overview of the work being carried out in Atlantis.

"First stop for visitors is always the infirmary; I'm sure you understand. The medical equipment we found here is just beyond Earth's current level of technology - at least fifty years. This scanner thing for example, is like an MRI without the magnets. It only takes a few seconds but it gives you way more than a picture. The amount of data it collects is huge and the analysis it produces is much more detailed."

Nick examines the monitor's readout closely. "Yeah, we have something similar - smaller - for scanning artifacts. Material analysis, three-d modeling, detection of energy signatures - X-ray, gamma ray, photons..." He lies down on the scanner bed for the nurse, grinning at her wolfishly, "Hi, how are ya?" and receives a less than professional smile in return.

Irked, Sheppard takes him through some of the research labs. "Here they're working on a hyperdrive for the jumpers. Lets you travel faster than light."

"Why would you waste something like that on such a small ship?"

"W-well...that's top secret. I'm sure you understand," Sheppard hides his annoyance.

Finally Sheppard bends his own security protocols and shows Boyle the control room. "Got bio-sensors, environmental sensors, long-range - or deep space - sensors, flight control, passive city-wide monitoring 24/7."

"Nice." Nick strolls over to the railing overlooking the gate room. "What's that thing? It looks like some ancient Minoan's idea of art-deco," he cracks.

"That's the Stargate," Sheppard replies defensively. He turns to the senior tech on duty. "Say, Amelia, isn't it almost time for the dial-out to the...beta site?" he suggests with raised eyebrows.

Amelia grins, "Of course, sir. Would you like me to take care of that now?"

Pleased, Sheppard grins back at her, "Sure. They won't mind if we're a little early."

Amelia shakes her head in amusement and dials an address to an uninhabited planet. There is no such thing as a beta-site and the next scheduled dial-out isn't until tomorrow.

The raw power of the vortex impresses Nick until the event horizon forms. Concerned, he tenses. "That's a one way deal, right?"

Sheppard nods, "For matter, yes. Energy waves and particles can travel both ways, though. Video and audio signals, for example."

"And how do you keep that other stuff from coming through?"

Sheppard nods to Amelia who activates the shield. "Energy barrier. Keeps out uninvited gate travelers. Why? You've seen something like this before?"

"The shield doesn't seem too different from our camouflage-holo technology but the last time I saw one of those," Boyle nods toward the wormhole, "an energy entity came out of it and put me through a wall. It wasn't as big and it didn't have an artifact around it. It just sorta...hung there."

Unblinkingly, Sheppard simply stares at Nick for a long moment. "So, is there _anything_ you might be interested in seeing?" he finally asks.

Casually, Nick responds, "You got a team drilling some ice cores. I'd like to see those."

Another, slightly less long, pause. "I'm sorry. Did you say ice cores?"


	35. Angels And Demons

In the lower jumper bay at the bottom of the tower, Doctors Brown and Zelenka show Ville the latest cores. She enthuses, "Katie, Raddic, this is incredible! Look how pristine the oldest ice is. How far back does this represent?"

Zelenka tells her excitedly, "If our calculations are correct, this may be _pre_ -Atlantean ice, the oldest ever drilled on Earth!"

Brown adds, "We have to analyze these soil samples - soil! From when Antarctica was covered with forest!"

"Find any sulfur?" Nick jokes as he and Sheppard approach.

"Done with the tour already?" Ville asks.

"You're as bad as Rodney - it's been three hours," Sheppard teases her. "And Nick here, wanted to see the ice, too."

"Actually, I'm gonna have to insist you stop drilling," Nick tells Ville matter-of-factly. "And I need to talk you. Alone."

Ville gently hands the ice core back to Zelenka. "Why don't you get this into the freezer for now?"

"And give us the room," Sheppard requests, "please."

"Of course, Colonel," Zelenka responds instinctively to Sheppard's tone. Brown adds, "Sure, not a problem."

Nick and Sheppard stare each other down until Nick relents, "Okay."

"Good," Sheppard replies with a self-satisfied tone of voice.

"Nick, what is this about?"

"You remember Alex' research studying...disturbances just prior to the millennium?"

Ville nods, "Yes, she mapped the highest concentrations to four Legacy Houses around the Pacific."

"Alex said she couldn't make heads or tails of it until she placed a fifth point at the South Pole."

"Forming an inverted pentagram. Nick, the pattern is arbitrary, based on a North-centric perspective."

"And yet all four Houses have a Portal."

"Excuse me, sorry to interrupt. What sort of portal are we talking about?" Sheppard asks.

Nick makes a _okay-but-you're-not-gonna-believe-it_ gesture. "Once every thousand years or so, the battle between light and dark reaches a peak. The Darkside spends a millennium building up the strength to breach one or more of the portals between this world and Hell so they can reign over the Earth for the next thousand years.

"In 999 A.D., the Legacy House in Byzantium joined with a religious order, later named the Rosicrucians. Together they sealed several portals in order to prevent hordes of demons from escaping and bringing about the Apocalypse.

"In 1999, they tried again at the San Francisco House - _our_ house. Our precept sacrificed himself to destroy the house and reseal the portal for the next thousand years."

Sheppard concludes, "And you think there's one of these 'portals' below Antarctica?"

"And that we risk accidentally breaching it by drilling down into the ice," Ville adds.

"That's why London paged me in the middle of the conference." Nick continues, "The satellite imagery suggests something's down there."

She throws up her hands. "It could be any number of things. Crestacean volcanic activity, an ancient comet crater, residual energy from Atlantis' presence here ten million years ago or even evidence of a magnetic pole shift."

"London would rather you didn't take any chances."

"I see. They no longer trust my judgement after the incident with the Goa'uld."

 _'The what with the Goa'uld?' Sheppard flashes._

 _'We'll talk about it later.'_

 _'Yes. We will.'_

 _'Guess you don't know her as well as you thought, Sheppard.'_

Before Sheppard can say _we-really-need-to-talk_ , Ville says out loud, "Do you trust me, Nick?"

"Always."

"There is no portal in the polar region. Either of them."

Nick looked around at the operation for a moment, considering his response. "Good enough for me."

"You had to come all the way to the bottom of the world for that?" Sheppard cracks.

Nick grins insouciantly, "I was in the neighborhood."

With the tension broken, Ville confesses, "Alex is probably disappointed I haven't visited."

"Not to mention Kat. Jonathan explained to her how busy you are what with setting up your own country and everything."

"Another reason London doesn't trust me," she sighs.

" _Who_ in London doesn't trust you? You know they _love_ her over there - the Queen, Parliament. They can't get enough of her."

"John, did Cameron ever tell you the story of how he & I met?"

"Yeah...," Sheppard snaps his fingers in Nick's direction, "Oh, _that_ Luna Foundation."

Ville waves Zelenka and Brown back, "Excuse me, boys, I'd like to get back to this."

"Whereabouts in San Francisco?" Sheppard asks.

"Angel Island."

"The park in the middle of the bay?"

"You been there?"

"Saw it from Alcatraz once."

"Ever notice the castle-looking thing on the mountain in the middle?"

"Get out! You work there?"

"Work there. Live there. Rebuilt it after the damn fire."

Sheppard bites his lip and nods. "Right. So you guys are archaeologists?"

"Researchers, investigators, scientists. We help people nobody else can. Who's Mitchell?"

"It's a long story. Say, you know, we have some interesting artifacts here."

 _'John,' Ville admonishes him, 'The chair room? Really?'_

 _'Aw, come on. What are the odds?'_


	36. All Her Secrets And No One To Tell

"It's a chair." Nick continues to be unimpressed.

"That lets you fire the coolest weapons. I was almost shot down by one - that's how I found out about all this stuff."

"Oh-kay," Nick revises his opinion. "It's an ugly chair," he insists sarcastically.

"Did I mention, it lets you fly the city, too," Sheppard adds smugly.

"It must turn like an elephant."

"How would you know?"

"I've ridden elephants. Trust me, it's not an experience I recommend. And those puddle jumpers? They maneuver like Winnebagos."

"Hey! You know, there are fighter pilots that would kill to fly one of those. It's like they read your damn mind."

"Happens all the time in my line of work. Usually not pleasant although there is the occasional... Well, a gentleman doesn't kiss and tell," Nick smugly replies.

"Occupational hazard, huh?" Genuinely curious, Sheppard suggests, "So...you and Ville?"

"Long time ago."

"Yeah, but you two are, you know, connected. How'd that happen?" Sheppard asks wonderingly.

"She saved my life." Nick remains reticent to talk about it.

"That's something else we have in common then. Sort of."

"About a year later, she had to go back to another life." Then Nick shrugs, "Just as well otherwise she might not have found her kid."

Sheppard's eyebrows rise, "Excuse me?"

Nick laughs knowingly, "Let me guess. She didn't tell you."

"Well, she certainly isn't boring. A kid, huh? Wow. Do you know who...?"

"Jonathan doesn't like to talk about him much. Pretty much all he'll say is 'it was another time, another place.'"

"The Irish guy? Her kid's from another timeline? How the hell did he get here?"

Nick can barely keep up with Sheppard's line of thought. "He has some of her abilities."

Sheppard circles the room thinking furiously but keeps coming back to the same seemingly irrelevant question. "So which one is it?" Nick gives him a blank look. Sheppard elaborates, "The kid's father. Is it the singer or the guitarist?"

"Sheppard, what the hell are talking about?"

Sheppard exclaims, "Damn. They were here, just a coupla weeks ago."

"Jonathan's father was here?" Nick shakes his in disbelief.

"The version of him in this timeline, yeah. She didn't want to meet with them. That's how I knew it was one of them," Sheppard shakes his finger with an inordinate amount of satisfaction.

Nick gives up, "Okay, you know what? This is gettin' kinda weird. You got a pub in this city?"

"No, but we got a patio with a heck of a view and some cold brews. Come on. I'd like to share notes, if you don't mind..."

"A gentleman never kisses and tells."

"No, not _those_ notes. You like domestic or import...?"


	37. Higher Education

Continuing the tour, Sheppard takes Nick to the holoroom containing the educational database interface. The image of an Ancient woman is speaking to a group of students and answering questions. He explains to Nick, "It's interactive and multi-lingual. Covers a whole range of subjects, some of which we'd never even heard of but that, apparently, every Atlantean child should know."

When the current module ends, the co-ordinator of this little field trip, Emily Patterson, motions to Sheppard who gives her a coy, 'Who me?' smile until she says to her charges, "Everyone, this is John Sheppard. He is the one that flew Atlantis to Earth from the Pegasus galaxy. John, would you mind?"

Sheppard confides falsely, "I hate it when she does this," and steps forward. "Emily, good to see you again. Kids, how's it going?"

Nick watches Sheppard work the crowd of teens, girls smitten and boys awed.

"Well, I didn't _fly_ the city so much as I sat in a chair told it where to go." His tone elicited a laugh from some of the kids. "The city does all the real work. It's kinda like the hologram lady you were just talking to, except the city doesn't need words to hear. It reacts to some people's skin and nervous system and sometimes even their thoughts."

Today's kids are such pragmatics and proceed to pepper him with questions but Sheppard manages against the onslaught.

"Why can't _anyone_ tell the city what to do then?" one young man asks.

"It's like the biometrics on your laptop, voice-enabled dialing on your smart phone, retinal scans sorta like what you see in the movies. But instead of your thumbprint or retina or speech, DNA is the key. It's the password you can't lose."

One girl raises her hand, "What if you're not one of those people?"

"Many systems, once they're initialised, can be used by anyone with training. Now don't get me wrong, the Ancients did build a lot of cool stuff but don't go revering them too much - they're not around anymore to prove us wrong. You know what matters most? They were human. These computers, the city, the ships, all of it were designed by people very much like you." He makes eye contact with everyone in the small audience. "Now, have you guys seen the cool planetarium show with the Pink Floyd laser show yet?" Sheppard steps up onto the pedestal and activates the star map feature to talk a little about some of the planets and cultures in Pegasus.

After the group of students moves on, Sheppard seals the room and calls up the historical database. "Some of this is classified but I'm going to show you anyway. Frankly, nobody'd believe it who doesn't already think the planet is run by a global secret society - no offense - riddled with aliens who plan the economy, the wars, fix the crap tables, and totally robbed _Showgirls_ of an Oscar nomination."

Nick watches the briefing describing the Ancients' departure from Earth and arrival in Pegasus, their program of seeding life, how some evolved through ascension to a higher plane of existence and the story of their last great battle and defeat.

"The irony is, they accidentally created the enemy who defeated them," Sheppard concludes. "How does that fit in with your battle between Light and Dark?"

"Creatures born of human fears and preying on living souls? Sounds pretty dark to me."

"You think she'll see the Wraith that way?"

Nick grimaces. "Wish I could tell you 'yes'. From our point of view, it's pretty straight forward - us versus them. For her, it's a little more complicated. Light and Dark, Good and Evil exist because humans have choice. Otherwise, we'd be back in the garden and there'd be no meaning in human existence."

* * *

As Sheppard preps a jumper to fly Nick back to Hobart, he gets another surprise.

Nick asks, "Does this thing use radar or GSP nav...," he pauses as the HUD comes on, "Heads up display. Sweet."

Sheppard says slowly and suspiciously. "I didn't activate the HUD."

"So it's voice command?"

Powering down the console and controls, Sheppard says, "Switch seats with me for a second. I just need to check out something." He vacates the pilot's seat.

Nick gives him a weird look, "Okay." He studies the controls quickly, running through his check list, "Pitch, yaw, thrust."

Each control highlights on the HUD in a program Sheppard's never seen before. "Is that...a tutorial?"

"That would make sense wouldn't it?" Nick misses the significance of all this. "Okay, communications. Flight, this is...?"

"Jumper One," Sheppard fills in the blank and settles into the co-pilot's chair.

"Jumper One requesting clearance for take off, copy?"

"Roger that, Jumper One. Bay doors are open. You are cleared for launch. Safe flight."

"Thanks, Flight. Up, up and away."

"Inertial dampners."

"Inertial what?" An acknowledgement sounded from the console.

"The technology that keeps us from taking G's and ending up as jelly on the seat backs."

"Oh. Good to know. Maybe you should put a warning label on the dashboard."


	38. Dream Catcher

"He's got the Ancient gene!" Sheppard exclaims excitedly, sitting down at the table in the mess hall. "We should have _more_ of your friends over." Ville smiles with a little shake of her head. "Anyway, I told Nick if he needs a favor, to call and if those folks in London gave him a hard time, he should come work for us."

"And he turned you down. His job is more of a _legacy_ than a career."

"Well, I hate to shut the door on someone with the Ancient gene and a high ATA rating which I'm guessing Mr. Boyle would score if he were tested. You should've seen him at the controls of the jumper. He's a natural."

"I don't get that," McKay shakes his head, "how could someone with the gene turn down such an incredible opportunity? It's crazy."

Ville chides him, "Rodney, don't talk with your mouth full."

"I'm starving. I haven't eaten in six hours."

"Six whole hours. Really?" Sheppard says in his mockingly sympathetic _you-poor-thing-I'm-surprised-you're-not-dead-already_ voice.

"Just because I do my work sitting down doesn't make it any less strenuous. Not all of us have time to play tour guide."

Ville says, "Nick Boyle is hardly a candidate for crazy. Civilians are just harder to recruit than academics or ex-SGC personnel. They would have to relocate to a cold, bone dry desert at the bottom of the world that experiences a six month long winter."

McKay asks, "Speaking of which, are you two making any progress on the Stargate agreement? Carson thinks he's hiding it well but he's anxious to get back to his fieldwork on the retro-virus. And as crazy as this sounds, being back on Earth is not really all it's cracked up to be."

"You miss the Wraith?" Sheppard jokes.

"I'm not _that_ stir crazy. It's weird, I know, but I actually miss going off-world."

"Yeah, I know what you mean," Sheppard agrees wistfully.

"Both of you miss the other half of your team," Ville observes. Both men nod. "Richard and I have floated the idea of Atlantis running missions to Pegasus while the SGC retains...jurisdiction, if you will, in the Milky Way."

"If we can't get that, then we'll need the jumper hyperdrive. How's that coming, Rodney?"

"Zelenka says he'll be ready next week."

"Good. That's another thing I miss, space flight."

"Hold on, Buck Rogers, we're not there yet. We need to do simulations, more lab testing and a dry run before you get into the cockpit."

"Oh, come on, Rodney. What's the worse that can happen?"

"It could blow up for one thing. It's too risky."

"Well, I'm touched by your concern but I think I can handle it."

"I'm not talking about _you_. I'm talking about the prototype. God knows how long it would take if Zelenka has to build another one."

"He means that in the nicest possible way," Sheppard assures Ville with a smirk. "This mural project seems to be coming along," he gestures at the walls.

Pleased, Ville invites them to join in, "More and more people are starting to work on it. They drop by for a meal after their shift, start talking, someone starts painting, others pick up a brush, some offer criticism or ideas. Some are interested in recreating pigments used by the great masters for others to use. It's a real community effort."

"I hate to be Mr. Negative, but the results are uhm, how shall we say? Unappealing?"

"It's an ongoing project, Rodney. The Never Ending Mural," Ville playfully suggests the name.

"If it's never going to be finished then what's the point?"

Sheppard explains, "It's obviously a metaphor for human evolution. Right?"

Ville deadpans, "No, it's just fun." She stands up, "Let me show you," and eagerly breaks out the paint palettes, brushes and just about every conceivable art supply anyone can - and has - imagined.

McKay frowns slightly in Sheppard's direction. "At the risk of sounding obtuse - _where_ did that cabinet come from?"

Sheppard shakes his head and minutely widens his eyes. "We just never noticed it before?" he suggests.

"Ah."

"Here you go," she extends a brush to each of them. "Gentlemen, start your colours." She spends fifteen minutes coaxing a single brush stroke from McKay before he finally insists there's something in his lab he needs to finish.

Sheppard quips, "Well, I guess one stroke was all he needed." He chooses a place on the mural then daubs the brush on the pallette. "Alright, let's see what kind damage I can do." As he raises the brush to the wall, his eye is drawn to the texture of the paint already on the canvas. He sees several layers of paint, each a snapshot of a previous moment in time.

 _Each layer a previous moment in time when another and another and yet another stood in his place gazing upon this very same speck of the universe._

 _He sees the granules of pigment as the brush seemingly lays the paint down of its own accord. The molecules come to the foreground in his mind's eye, then the atoms, then the electrons, protons and neutrons._

 _The heavy semi-fluid pigment moves slowly under its own inertia. The individual camel hairs, rasping against the irregular layers, leave broken streaks of colour in their wakes._

 _Microscopic air pockets in the slow moving river of colour expand and split, bursting open to create the delicate imperfections on the new surface. His exhalation reacts with the chemistry of the fresh pigment, changing it, altering its composition at its most basic level making it uniquely his own._

 _His nostrils react imperceptibly to the metallic tang. The pressure of brush against canvas dislodges a speck of older pigment. His dilated pupils track its fall._

"Whoa," he breathes heavily. Ville has left his side to walk through the room contributing to other areas of the mural, talking with enthusiastic participants and interested observers. At one wall, she passes her hand over a pot, leading with her wrist in a dancer's gesture and the paint flings across an abstract landscape.

"Getting all Jackson Pollock on me." Lorne hangs his jacket on a chair and views the changes.

"Evan. You're late," she teases.

"No. I'm not," he smiles. "Time is irrelevant to an artist."

Sheppard sits back and watches their verbal jousting. Jennifer Keller joins him. "Colonel Sheppard. Sorry. _John_ ," she makes one of her silly apologetic gestures. "I wouldn't have expected to see you here."

"I like to expand my horizons. You know you just missed Rodney."

"Yeah, I passed him in the hall. He mentioned his 'brush' with artistic creativity."

"After which he practically ran screaming from the room," Sheppard jokes. "I didn't realise so many people were into this. It seems like half the city is here."

"Usually there are only a few people at a time, mostly working alone. When she shows up, word travels pretty fast."

"Really? I would think our people would be less star struck."

"Oh, they don't come to see her _per se_. They come for the show. She's quite the performer."

"Show?"

"Watch. You'll see."

Ville circulates through the room, contributing to others' work. Encouraging some, she mirrors their brush strokes in duet.

Becoming more exhuberant, her movements become more fluid, more graceful, humming to music only she hears. The music becomes audible as she sings individual notes without words.

Jennifer gushes in hushed voice, "It's like finger painting without the paint."

Pigment flies, charcoal streaks, new colours form right on the walls themselves. As she begins to circle and spin, light comes off her and onto the older parts of the work, fusing with the material, changing it to create a flourescence. Onlookers murmur in appreciation or wonder.

She's oblivious to the attention, her eyes half-lidded. Time slows once again, intoxicating. Sheppard senses her use of song and movement to peer beyond these walls, into other times, other places, other illusions of reality. He can feel some of the other watchers sensing it, too, but most are simply mesmorised by the physical spectacle experienced through their five senses in a very palpable way.

Time resumes its natural course. The artists are creating. Couples slow dance to the music. Small groups converse intimately, laughing and simply enjoying each other's company.

"Wow," he says slowly.

Keller grins. "Wasn't that amazing?"

Lorne nods appreciatively, "Impressive. Any idea how she does that, Sheppard?"

Suspicion colours his voice. "I _thought_ I knew. Now I'm not so sure."

Lorne approaches Ville with a compliment to the ready which she humbly accepts. Sheppard blocks out what they're saying and watches their body language. "What do you think of those two?" he asks Jennifer.

"Who?"

"Lorne and Ville. Do they look like a couple to you?"

Keller gives Sheppard an _okay-what've-you-been-smoking_ glance. "Actually, I think he's got the hots for Sara Thompson. But Ville? If there is anything there, and I'm not saying there is, I think it's mutually unrequited."

"Lancelot/Guenivere unrequited or Cyrano de Bergerac unrequited?"

"I think he's too chivalrous to do anything about it either way."

"Chivalrous? Not the first word that comes to mind."

"You know, most of us assume that you and she..."

Sheppard smirks, "A gentleman never kisses and tells."

"Ah, so you have kissed her," Keller teases.

He gives her a sidelong nice-try smile. "If that were the case, and I'm not saying it is," he wheedles her back, "I certainly wouldn't be the only love in her life."

"I suppose. She has been around a few millenia after all. Can't expect a girl to go that long with some action, can ya?"

Sheppard stands to leave but leans down to confide, "I think I'm needed in the control room."

She chortles and rolls her eyes as he walks away. "Oh, please." She can't help but watch Ville and Lorne a while longer before concluding, "Nah."

It's something Sheppard continues to contemplate. Evan Lorne. Dry sense of humour. Trustworthy. Dependable. Rock steady in a crisis. Loyal.

Lorne does have to spend a lot of time in close proximity to her. She wouldn't have chosen him if she wasn't comfortable with him. More than that, she listens to him.

Most important to the rest of the Council, Lorne is miserly with her time and access, otherwise she would be agreeing to help everyone with everything and spending precious little time in the city. Sheppard appreciates that about him.

Lorne's job is to protect her, not physically, though he is capable if needed, but from herself - her desire to please, her desire to help, her desire to be needed. It occurs to Sheppard that Lorne is exactly the type of guy Ville needs around precisely because he won't fall for her.


	39. Jonathan Thomas Evans

As Sheppard walks through the city, he keeps to himself but smiles and nods to new arrivals, then turns to check out the women in each group, accutely sensitive to any reactions he may have incited. Occasionally, he senses a positive response and makes a mental note to introduce himself to the lady in question at a later time.

This time he senses a male checking him out and he instinctively turns a corner and grabs the nearest transport as the doors are closing. He has no objection to consenting adults, etc. but let's face it, John Sheppard is wired for women one hundred percent. It's an immutable law of the universe. He has a laugh at himself but something else distracts him.

 _A presence. Coming from far away._

Everything happens in a blink of an eye:

An insouciant young man in non-descript clothing and a battered leather jacket leans in the doorway of Ville's office.

Sheppard has the muzzle of a 9mm pressed against the young man's temple. "How the hell did you get into my city?" Sheppard's look alone could kill.

Ville brings up her hand. "I called him here..."

"Well, well. Now who the fuck might you be?" the young man menaces in an Irish lilt.

"John Sheppard. Pleased to meet you."

Time pauses, ready to rewind if she must. "Please put down the gun."

The boy answers Sheppard, "Like this." He is quick but Sheppard is equally as fast. When the impudent intruder reappears between Ville and Sheppard, he finds the business end of the gun already pointed at his face.

"This may not kill you but in my experience, getting your atoms scrambled can be a real bitch."

"...more importantly, John, he is _mortal_."

"If he's human, how does he move like that?"

"His father was human and I wrote the other half of his DNA."

Sheppard raises the gun immediately. As Lorne enters the office behind him, Sheppard grabs the boy by his clothing and tosses him into the HeadSec's custody. "Take him to the brig. And don't take your hands or your eyes off him until you get there."

"Warm welcome that," the young man remarks flippantly.

"You heard the man," Lorne says, "let's go." Two other security officers flank their boss and his charge.

Jonathan grins over his shoulder, "We'll just have to catch up later, Ma."

Time moves forward again. She sinks into the nearest chair. "You could have killed him. There was no danger."

He looms over her. "An intruder appeared in the middle of our most secure area without tripping any of our security protocols. That's the very definition of an imminent threat."

"He wouldn't have harmed anything."

Raising his voice, he shouts, "How the hell was I supposed to know that?! And why didn't you tell me you had a son?"

"Because you were never supposed to meet him. I brought him here to say goodbye," she stands, " _if_ that's alright with you." She leaves without waiting for a response.

Rubbing his face, he quietly mutters, "Damn it."

* * *

Beckett and McKay join Sheppard and Lorne outside the brig for a briefing of what little Sheppard knows.

McKay repeats in an incredulous voice, "She what? Okay, is it just me or does anyone else find that incredibly disturbing?"

"I'm a little freaked out myself," Sheppard confesses.

"It's simply a form of artificial insemination, isn't it?" Beckett insists. "The father must've meant a lot to her."

"Sir, are they talking?" Lorne asks.

"Yeah, but I don't know what about - they're blocking me out."

"Well, I'm sure it's personal and nothing to do with you," Beckett protests.

Lorne exudes calm, "Doc, it doesn't matter how she did it or why; she broke protocol. Again. The Colonel did what he thought needed to be done to protect the city."

The architecture of the prison cell is simple : horizontal slats made of the same metal as the Stargate joined at four corners by post conduits connected to eight shield generators - four one level up and four one level down. The generators power a force shield that delivers a nasty shock to anything that comes into contact with it.

Inside the force shielded cell, situated in the middle of the room, Ville and Jonathan sit quietly together.

 _'You're going away again.'_

 _'With all that I've learned, I have to do this, luv. I hoped you'd understand.'_

 _'You don't even know if it will work!'_

 _'That's why I wanted to give you a choice before I go.'_

 _'Stay with you or go back where I came from?'_

 _'You could make a place for yourself here, no matter what happens.'_

 _'Without you? With a constant reminder of him?'_ Self-consciously, the young man shuffles his feet, digging his hands deeper into his pockets. He knows he strongly resembles his father and one of his persistent self-doubts is whether it's his father or himself she sees when she gazes at him.

"Hey," she chucks him under the chin to get him to look at her. "With you? I have no regrets whatsoever, but I need to let go."

"Yeah, I know but," he takes her hands and pulls her to her feet. "Ma, I love you."

"I love you, too, my baby boy." She whispers affectionately, "Street waif."

Jonathan laughs to avoid tearing up and hugs her. He hesitates, wondering if she'll answer him. "This Sheppard fellow. He's a good man, yeh?"

"Yes, he is a good man."

"Ya love him?"

Her face is a study of equanimity. "I'm happy."

"Fine, don't tell me," he teases her. "I'd best be getting on then." He deactivates the force shield remotely and marches up to Sheppard. "Permission to leave, sir."

Chagrined, Sheppard starts to say, "Listen, about that whole gun-to-your-head thing..."

"Forget it. You were trying to protect her. What more could a son want for his mother?" He extends his hand. "I don't envy you what you're about to go through. I just hope it works out."

"You know, we could use someone...with your abilities..."

"Good luck, Sheppard."


	40. Always Been A Storm

"Jumper Three, you're a go for launch. Have a nice trip. Pick me up a tee shirt, will ya?"

"Roger that, Flight."

Sheppard slaps his hands together and rubs them vigorously. "What else is on the menu today, kids?"

Amelia and Chuck are on shift and share an indulgent look before answering the boss. Amelia reminds Sheppard, "We have a scheduled dial out to _Icarus_ base at 1500 hours."

"Meanwhile, we'll be running diagnostics on secondary systems," Chuck adds cheerily.

"You know, as exciting as that all sounds...," he trails off as his Spidey-sense starts acting up. It feels like a tickle on his neck or an itch in the back of his mind, but something is definitely going on. "Sheppard to McKay. Rodney, are you running any tests that would involve massive amounts of free floating energy?" He heads out to the balcony, his first concern being the shield.

 _"And why would I be doing that?"_

"Honestly? That was gonna be my next question. Control Room, do you see any fluctuations or energy spikes in the shield emitters?"

Amelia answers, _"Negligible, sir. Certainly not enough to affect the shield's efficiency."_

Sheppard stops trying to crane his head around and closes his eyes instead to picture a 360 degree view. His eyes fly open to see twin energy bolts grounding somewhere out on the Mitchell pier.

 _"Sheppard! What the hell was that?"_

"Rodney, I'm seeing something...lightning-like inside the shield. I can't tell where it's coming from; it's passing through like the shield's not even there."

 _"That's impossible!"_

"You do know who you're talking to, right?" Another strike occurs and goes to ground in the same area as before. "So much for not striking the same place twice." His face goes slack, his eyes widen and he whispers, "What are you doing out there?" Then he's gone.

One of two security officers on duty notices the motion in his peripheral vision. "Matthews to HeadSec, come in, please!"

Lorne's voice came over the comm. _"HeadSec here."_

"Sir. Stevens and I just witnessed Colonel Sheppard jump off one of the tower balconies."

 _"Let me guess. He's hand gliding without the glider again. What's this chatter about lightning?"_

"Dr. McKay's on it, sir. We can confirm it visually though."

 _"Alright. Assemble some damage control teams at the base of the tower just in case. Control Room?"_

"Yes, sir," Chuck calls out, "Jumper is being prepped. The bay doors will be open by the time you get there."

* * *

Ville stands tall with her arms raised skyward, a focused cyclone of energy dancing around her like a dervish. Sheppard slows to a jog when when he gets a line of sight on her. Within the shield, air whips around in unnatural currents. Outside the shield, snow is being swept up in violent flurries creating a whiteout condition.

"Rodney, this Sheppard. Can you hear me?"

 _"Barely. There's a lot of interference."_

"The air out here is becoming super-charged. Are you sure the shield's not losing any power?"

 _"Positive. Just these little spikes. Similar to the ones we get when the aurorae light up the sky. What do you see out there?"_

"Ville seems to be drawing down power from somewhere. What about subspace?"

 _"Way ahead of ya. No, nothing, wait...there are some faint readings, huh, similar to what I'd expect to see with a time dilation field."_

"She's messing with time?"

 _"Well, I don't know. You're the one out there. Why don't you go ask her?"_

"That probably wouldn't be such a good idea right now. Those energy bolts? She's channeling them, like she might be storing up the juice." Sheppard pauses at the sound of a - "Puddle Jumper, this is Sheppard. Back off! I repeat, back off. Land the ship and shut it down."

 _"Roger that, sir. Do you need any assistance from the ground?"_

"Negative. Just be ready to fire it up again if I give the order. Stand by."

Thunder begins to crack and the wind rises. He moves a bit closer and calls her name but receives no answer. Lightning strikes increase in frequency. Her expression is part rapture, part exhaustion. Her declaration translates into his brain as :

 _"I am the first and the last_

 _I am the honored one and the scorned one_

 _I am the whore and the holy one_

 _I am lust in outward appearance_

 _And interior self-control exists within me"_

The flash blinds all his senses, not just his human ones. She crosses her arms over her chest and cries a primal scream, a banshee keening, like the voice of the wind. Pillars of colour shoot upward and outward. The chaos inside the shield subsides. After she releases her final burden, she collapses.

Sheppard hits his comm at a dead run, "Lorne, get the jumper over here. Have a medical team waiting for us in the bay." He slides to his knees next to her and gathers her up, "Come on, come on, don't do this. Ville, can you hear me?" He feels her weakening and brings his will to bear. _'You stay. Don't give up on me.'_

He shares what he can of his own life force. Something faint stirs. _'Okay, that's a start. Now, listen. I don't know how long I can hang onto you so I need you to fight. Fight to hold on.'_


	41. Metaphysical Mystery

When she sees her 'patient', Dr. Keller asks, "What exactly do you want me to do?"

"Treat her like any other patient," Sheppard answers curtly, "for now."

"Oo-kay. Breathing shallow. Pulse thready. Pupils non-responsive." She nods to the orderlies to wheel the gurney to the infirmary and radioes ahead, reeling off instructions to the staff there, including getting Dr. Beckett's ETA to Atlantis. "Do you have any idea what happened to her?"

Sheppard shakes his head, "I'm not sure. She absorbed a lot of energy. Rodney, you still there?"

 _"I'm already in the infirmary setting up some equipment. Carson is ten minutes out; I've apprised him of what precious little we know. What about the power - the city's power, I mean?"_

"Don't worry, I've got it. For now."

 _"I'll get Raddic to bring the naquada generators online. That should take some of the strain off you."_

"Thanks, buddy," he says gratefully, breathlessly.

Worried she might soon have two patients she doesn't how to treat on her hands, she steadies him. "Are you alright, John?"

"I'm fine, doc," he dismiises her concern brusquely. They follow the gurney into the urgent care ward.

McKay points to Keller, "Carson suggested getting a medical baseline on her current condition."

"Uh, okay. Garrett, let's get her under the medical scanner. Go. Miller, have an EEG ready to hook her up to. Rodney, what is all this equipment doing in my infirmary?"

"We need to monitor her energy output, not just her simulated brain waves," McKay uses his _you're-just-playing-dumb-to-flatter-me_ voice.

Keller lowers her voice and rasps, "You want me to monitor simulated brain waves. Sheppard wants me to check her imaginary pulse and respiration. How do you two expect me to treat her when he doesn't even know what's wrong with her?"

"You and Zalenka are both human. You don't expect him to know how to perform complicated surgery, hmm? We can't expect Wonder Boy to know everything," McKay switches from arrogant mode to condescending mode. "Look. Her avatar is a physical body. Yes, it's put together differently but its purpose is to mimic human physiology so she can interact with us."

Annoyed, Keller fires back, "Gee, I never would've thought of that. Thank you, Rodney."

Suddenly contrite, he says, "You're welcome?"

"How does mimicking human behaviour help us?"

"Because," a familiar Scottish accent arrives, "Colonel Carter thinks she does that to allow medical personnel to monitor any changes in her condition. That's why I asked Rodney to start taking readings immediately."

A medical alarm goes off and Beckett goes straight to her bed. The nurses have finished applying the electrodes for the EEG. Beckett says, "She's in defib, get those off her. Get the crash cart. Colonel, I need you to step back and stay out of the way."

"I...I might be able to help," Sheppard stammers.

"Yes, you can, but do it from over there please, thank you," he nods reassuringly. Accepting a syringe, "No mucking about, I'm just going to inject this where the carotid ought to...," he pauses as the heart monitor returns to normal.

"Hold on." He hands the syringe back to his assistant and listens with the stethoscope. "Aye, she's back. Figuratively speaking, of course. Start an IV just in case. Colonel," Beckett waves him back to her side.

Sheppard lays one hand on her arm then awkwardly holds his other over her forehead. "I don't really know if I'm doing this right, doc," he confesses.

In an assuring voice, Beckett says, "I know, son. None of us do. Just concentrate and tell me if you sense anything."

Sheppard takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. He examines the texture of her consciousness, looking for a way in, straining to detect any reaction. "She's here but...it's like she can't hear me. Or she's just not listening." He opens his eyes, "But there's something else that worries me even more."

"What's that?" McKay asks.

Searching for adequate words to describe the ineffable, he tries to explain, "There's this...white place. In her mind. It's kinda made out of light. Anyway, she goes there when she's...depressed or sad or needs to get away from something...and I can't find it. It's like it's not there anymore."

Keller suggests, "Like a retreat when she's 'injured'?"

"Maybe it's only there when she needs it," McKay speculates then begins snapping his fingers rapidly at Sheppard, "The car battery," and moves to his laptop to examine his sensors' reading. "No unusual readings. Huh," he raises his finger again but Sheppard beats him to the punch, "She's already charged it up with all that energy. But she'd be awake then, right?"

Stumped, McKay admits, "That would seem logical."

Beckett mentions, "These EEG readings are those of someone in deep sleep."

"Maybe she's in some sort of Jedi healing trance."

McKay mocks Sheppard, " _Jedi healing trance_?"

Keller says, "Okay, okay, let's back up a minute. The theory is she uses medical feedback to communicate her state, right?"

Beckett agrees, "Aye, and these delta waves would suggest normal sleep."

"So she's stable, resting. But what about the tachychardia?"

Sheppard says, "She was reacting to something."

McKay retorts, "Yeah, like maybe she's needle phobic."

"No, that's when her heartbeat returned to normal. It was something before that," Sheppard sounds sure.

"It was you, Carson," Keller points out, "You had just walked into the room."

"Why would she be scared of Carson?"

"Fair question that. She knows I couldn't possibly hurt her."

An insight slowly unfolds in Sheppard's mind. "She knows you better than you think, doc." He turns to go, answering everyone's unspoken question before he walks out of the infirmary. "I gotta go to talk to a man about the future. Or the past. Everything's relative."


	42. The Spy Who Went Into The Cold

Colonel Mitchell pops in, "You wanted to see me, sir?"

"Yes, come in." General Landry looks up from the report on his desk. "I received a very intriguing phone call this morning. From John Sheppard."

"Sheppard? Really."

"He's asked me to extend an invitation and give you a few days' leave to travel to Atlantis."

"Gee, I hardly know the guy. All expenses paid trip to Antarctica - what's the catch?"

"Something tells me he's not going to be pitching you real estate. He's made the same request of Colonel Carter."

"You think something's going on down there and we should know what it is."

"It's no secret the powers-that-be keep jerking Wolsey around about the Stargate issue. Sooner or later, it won't be _Wolsey_ sitting down across the table from them."

"If Sheppard's about to deal himself in, why does he want to see us?"

"You're all colonels, you've all led SG teams, hell, I don't know except that I'm tired of the bureaucratic stalling and I'm not looking forward to the day we dial the gate and nothing happens. Enjoy your trip, Colonel. That's an order."

"I'll go pack my skis, sir."

* * *

Mitchell wonders if they should be offended that Sheppard didn't come to pick them up in Hobart himself.

Carter assures him. "Trust me, running the city's a full time job. He can't just put everything on hold to make a flight any other pilot can make just as easily." She considers revising her statement when Rodney McKay - the apparent pilot - steps out of the rear compartment.

"Oh, good, good, good. Right this way. We are on a bit of a schedule..." He returns to the cockpit as Mitchell and Carter exchange glances. "Okay, ya betcha," Carter says as they board.

Mitchell lets Carter take the co-pilot seat and flops down behind McKay. Sam has to admire Rodney's comfort level at piloting the jumper - he had them in the air smoothly before the rear hatch sealed. "Nice take off, McKay."

Inordinately pleased at the compliment, McKay beams, "Yes, thank you. I've been..."

Mitchell slides forward, "So what does Sheppard want with us?"

McKay frowns, "With you? I have no idea. Sam, on the other hand...," he takes a sudden, feigned interest in the sensors. "We have a situation and...I...we...could use a fresh set of eyes."

Carter grins, "You have a problem and you need someone smarter than you to solve it?"

"Watch it, blondie. Normally I'd be ready to go _mano y mano_ with you intellectually or otherwise but we have a very big problem. Carson thought you might be able to help. And...I said it couldn't hurt."

"Help who, Rodney?" Carter suspects she already knows.

* * *

Sheppard sits on his desk - her desk, whatever - and tells Mitchell. "It's Ville. She isn't responding to anything we've tried. There is an SG-1 mission report somewhere that has some medical intel on our beloved leader only Homeworld Security doesn't want to hand it over."

Mitchell folds his arms. "Awkward."

"Beckett thinks he can appeal to Colonel Carter to share anything Dr. Fraiser might have discovered during Ville's stint with SG-1. Or at least make suggestions without actually divulging classified or privileged information."

"Double awkward. What do you need me for?"

Sheppard dials the tension back and appeals to Mitchell, "I have this gut feeling. I want to ask you a favor. All I want is for you to talk to her. That's it."

"Talk to Carter?"

"No, no. To Ville."


	43. Spatiotemporal Mystery

The doctor sighs and looks across the ward at his high priority patient who has already been fussed over by McKay and Carter all morning. "I'd rather we let her rest."

"It'll only take a few minutes, Carson," Sheppard insists.

"What is it you expect to happen, exactly?"

"If it happens, I'll tell you but if nothing happens then no harm no foul."

"John, I don't know what you think Colonel Mitchell can do. He doesn't even know her," Beckett says quietly. Over Sheppard's shoulder, Mitchell shrugs in agreement.

"Just a couple of minutes, Carson. That's all I'm asking."

Sighing, "I don't suppose it really matters," he leads them over and dismisses the nurse. "Alright, all the monitors show no changes. Go ahead, son," he nods to Mitchell.

Mitchell looks at Sheppard who says, "Just start talking."

"What do you want me to say?"

"Anything. Let her hear your voice."

Mitchell clears his throat. "Howdy, ma'am. Colonel Cameron Mitchell here. Nice to meet you. Sorry it's not under..." The alarm on the heart monitor goes off. "Did I do that?"

Beckett listens to her chest. "She's in defib again!"

Sheppard moves Mitchell closer, "Tell you're fine and everything's okay."

"Uh, listen, they're saying everything's gonna be fine, so..." The alarm cuts off as he speaks and her rhythm returns to normal.

Beckett says to Sheppard, "She's back - just like last time. Bloody hell."

"What in the samiel was that?" Mitchell asks.

"Hold that thought." Sheppard abruptly leaves the infirmary...

...and simultaneously enters McKay's lab.

"People in comas can still hear the voices of other people talking around them, right?" Sheppard asks rhetorically. "You detected readings that reminded you of the time dilation field."

Dr. McKay, master of the _non sequitur_ , makes a face, "What are you _on_ about?"

Carter turns to McKay, "Did he just say 'time dilation'? What have been teaching him, Rodney?"

Smugly, Sheppard tells McKay and Carter, "I just did a little experiment of my own that I think is gonna help you guys solve this. Come with me."

They find themselves back in the infirmary with Dr. Beckett and Colonel Mitchell. McKay pats himself down as if checking for something. Next to him, Mitchell frowns. Defensively, McKay says, "Trust me, that was weird."

Before Carter and Mitchell start asking questions, Sheppard commands everyone's attention,"Okay, I know this is gonna sound a little crazy, but hear me out. We think the medical readouts tell us something, right?"

Carter nods, "That's what Ville told Dr. Fraiser but we can't actually verify it. That experiment didn't go exactly as planned."

"What experiment?" Beckett and McKay both ask.

"Focus, people! Now, when I found her out on the pier, Rodney, you detected an energy signature similar to a time dilation field which causes time to pass at different rates, right?"

"But there was no field, they were just random spikes. And what does that have to do with medical readouts?"

"Carson, since we brought her in have there been any changes in her condition?"

"Just the two cardiac events."

Sheppard says triumphantly, "Which happened when she heard you and Mitchell but no one else."

The other four look at each other. "John, don't take this the wrong way but...," Carter furrows her brow.

"What the hell does that have to do with anything?" McKay finishes her thought.

"She was drawing power and then she released something. What if it wasn't energy? We just assumed that because that's what it looked like. What if she was moving time around?"

"Moving time?" Carter says sceptically.

Sheppard turns to McKay, "Wouldn't that explain those readings?"

"Uh, maybe? I don't know. Where are you getting all this?"

Excitedly Sheppard says, "This is where the crazy part comes in..."

"Really?" Mitchell asks rhetorically, "About damn time."

"In the infirmary, she's only reacted to Mitchell and Beckett. When she collapsed on the pier she reacted to me. Mitchell, Beckett and I have something in common that nobody else does."

Surprised McKay asks Mitchell, "You were born with the Ancient gene?"

"No, and I don't work with Atlantean technology so I don't have the gene therapy either."

"That's not it," Sheppard tells them. "I know you two don't remember it but the three of us shared a unique timeline with Sleeping Beauty here. After the expedition returned to Earth, Beckett and I stayed behind and Atlantis remained in Pegasus for another forty years."

"What? That's impossible. We left four days later," Beckett protested.

"Not the first time."

Beckett and McKay fall silent for a moment remembering a 'first' Elizabeth Weir. McKay reluctantly asks, "Did I die again?"

"No, Rodney. You and Jennifer lived happily ever after," Sheppard snipes, "How should I know? I was in Pegasus."

Mitchell says, "But I wasn't."

"She picked you up along the way."

"On the way to Earth?"

"Not exactly. Crap. I _hate_ time travel. Okay, your grandfather was a captain in the merchant fleet in the thirties. He commanded a freighter called the _Achilles_."

"And how did you know that?" Mitchell drawls.

"You have a picture of him taken in front of his ship in Boston Harbor hanging in your locker right now. I know that about you, too."

"Huh. So who's the other guy in the picture?"

"What other guy? Oh," Sheppard winces. "Did I mention how much I hate time travel?" Then it came to him, "Your grandmother never knew because he wouldn't tell her."

"Damn. Do you do parties?"

Carter summarises, "So you three shared a timeline that none of the rest of us were part of?"

"Well, I'm sure you were part of it but she knows you all were back in the Milky Way not in Atlantis."

She protests, "Multiverse theory holds that there are an unlimited number of variations. How can she possibly know..."

McKay begins snapping his fingers at Carter, "Because her native state of consciousness is non-spatiotemporal! She doesn't exist in all timelines in a spatiotemporal form, only the ones where she's interacted with humans. Those are the ones she's aware of and - oh, McKay, you are good - she experiences them linearly which is why she can be aware of what's likely to happen in the future and be ignorant of things that have happened in the past. Time is relative whereas a non-spatiotemporal consciousness is absolute! That's ascension in a nutshell."

Piqued at being upstaged, Sheppard demands, "How do you know what she knows and doesn't know?"

"Well, you know, we, uhm, talk," McKay turns sheepish, "Occasionally. Actually, it's mostly her theory," he admits, "I just, ah, polished it up some."

Beckett pipes up, "This is all peachey, gentlemen, but how does any of this help us help her?"

Now it's Sheppard's turn to look sheepish. "Well, I was kinda hoping you guys would take over at this point."

Annoyed, McKay heads back to his lab, "They always turn to the scientists."


	44. Vigil

At the jumper, Sheppard sees Mitchell and Carter off. "Thanks for coming. Sorry we didn't have time to let you enjoy all the hot spots."

Carter hugs him. "I'm sorry we couldn't do more, John. Hang in there, okay? She's been around a long time; she's bound to come out of it eventually."

Mitchell drawls, "Question is, will it be in our lifetimes?"

"I'm sure he feels much better now, Cam," she says, boarding the jumper.

Mitchell apologises, "She's right. That's just quitter talk."

"It's alright. Listen, Mitchell, I know Landry wants you bring back some intel on the Stargate situation."

With a completely straight face, Mitchell says, "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Yeah, I know that about you, too. Listen, nobody at the SGC needs to worry about losing their jobs. Obviously we have to rethink our situation. Wolsey and I will give Landry and O'Neill a heads up before we hit the negotiating table again."

Mitchell shrugs, "I can pass along the message."

"Thanks." The two men shake hands respectfully, even warmly.

Once the jumper clears the bay doors, Sheppard pulls at his chin, mentally exhausted from the past several days. He decides to use the transport to conserve his energy.

Late at night, Dr. Keller finishes filing her reports and shuts down her work station. Says goodnight to the skeleton staff. Passes by the intensive care ward, stops, backs up and goes in.

Ville lies still and peaceful as usual. No changes whatsoever. Keller finds it disheartening and downright frustrating.

At her bedside, Sheppard is asleep with his crossed feet propped on the foot of the bed and his hand resting on her arm. He's been here for days. _'That chair seat must have molded itself to his ass by now.'_

She leans over, "John. John?"

"Yeah, doc."

"Oh. I thought you were asleep."

"Well, I _was_ until you started thinking about my ass," he smarts off to her.

"I was actually thinking about the chair."

"Spin it all you like," he smirks wolfishly, "I know what I heard."

"Whatever." She shoves his feet off the bed. "Why don't you go get some rest. You know we'll call you if..."

"I'll probably be the first to know no matter where I am."

"You do have other responsibilities, you know."

"I've mastered the art of delegation. Everyone on the council is doing a great job. I can get on the comm to somebody before they even know they want to ask me something. I know everything that's going on in this city - although I mostly try to stay away from the personnel quarters."

Keller raises her eyebrow, "Mostly?"

"It can be a little awkward," he leans forward with a telltale expression, "Did you know Dr. Barrett, that Finnish woman that's been making eyes at Zelenka, plays the flute? Quite well, too, actually." He sat back folding his arms.

"You know, people who come to Atlantis for the first time want to catch a glimpse of you or Ville. With her unavailable that leaves..."

"If somebody really needs to see me at a meet and greet, I can be two places at once for a little while. I think my technique has improved. Probably only people who really know me well could tell the difference."

Keller finally pulls up a chair and sits. "Look, John, I know what she means to you. I mean, I can imagine what she means to you but you sitting here 24/7 isn't gonna bring her back any faster, is it?"

"Maybe not. But she saved my life once and when am I ever gonna get another chance to pay her back, right?" he kids. "I'm gonna be here if she needs my help. What about you? Being a doctor, you're used to figuring things out, being able to fix people when they're broken. You hate not being able to do anything about it."

"Yeah, I do. But I also accept that this is _way_ outta my league. The next best thing to do in these situations is to comfort the...," she stops self-consciously. "The patient's loved ones."

Sheppard pats her hand. "Thanks, doc," he says sincerely.

"Okay, then. Well, I'll...," she backs out of the infirmary, searching for something appropriate, "leave you to your vigil then." Turning away, she immediately begins kicking herself mentally. _'Vigil. What a stupid thing to say.'_

He watches her leave, amused. While not fond of medical doctors in principal, he's grown quite used to Keller. Maybe even a little fond of her. "I really hope McKay doesn't screw that up."

Leaning his elbows on the bed, he takes Ville's hand again and concentrates.


	45. Shades Of Harmony

_Reaching out, searching. Something...a light in the distance. 'Everything's relative.' He steps through the veil into the white place. Relief. Concern. Empty white nothingness surrounds him. Something...faint, far away. He moves toward a presence._

 _As if on a pedestal, relative to himself, a young girl lies curled up asleep. Oblivious? Maybe, maybe not. He touches her mind gently. She mumbles. He shakes her ever so slightly. A chubby little arm bats him away. 'I don' wanna.'_

 _'Hey. Can you hear me? My name's John. What's yours?'_

 _She rolls away from the sound of his voice. 'Lemme sleep.'_

 _'How'd you get here?'_

 _'I had to make myself small again. 'M tired.'_

 _'Small again? I don't understand what that means.'_

 _The child rolls over and heaves a melodramtic sigh universal to children everywhere there's an adult slow on the uptake._

 _'Hey, don't get huffy with me, little lady. What's your name?'_

 _Rubbing her eyes with the heel of her hand, she sits upright which seems even weirder to him because now she doesn't actually appear to be sitting on anything at all._

 _'Ville,' she mumbles._

 _Flood of relief. 'What's the last thing you remember before you came here?'_

 _'Wind. Snow. Cold.'_

 _'Where'd you go after that?'_

 _'Everywhere. I had to but I don't want to anymore. Can I go home with you?'_

 _He picks her up, 'I was hoping you were gonna say just that.'_

When he opens his eyes, he receives a shock. Small dainty feet in mary janes kick against the side of the bed. Carefully, he looks up. The girl is trying to look everywhere at once. "It looks different." She tips her head back and examines the ceiling.

"Okay," he takes her head in his hands and to focus her attention on him. "Can we have a serious conversation for a minute? Alright, you are...you. What...how did you end up...small?"

"I didn't want to be in those other places anymore. I like it here, I want to stay with Atlantis. Please?"

"Nobody's gonna make you leave Atlantis. This is your home. In fact, you have more right to call it home than the rest of us."

Instead of relieved, she seems wary and tired. He tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "How old are you supposed to be anyway?"

"Eight."

He snorts, "More like four."

"Six!" she bargains.

"I'm thinking five," he counters.

She protests, "I'm too _tall_ to be five!"

"Alright, alright. Take it easy. _Someone_ needs a nap."

"I tole you not to wake me up!"

"At-at! Settle down." He holds up his finger, warning her. "Come on, I'll take you to your room."

Quick as a cat, she scrambles onto his back and hugs his neck. He tries to straighten up, sore from sleeping in the chair. "Oof. 'Gee, can I have a ride, Uncle John?' 'Sure, sweetie, hop right on.'"

"I'm hungry. Can we go eat?"

Sheppard lost control as soon as he set her down inside the mess hall. She immediately ran off to Lorne standing brush in hand in front of the mural. "Evan!" She hugs his legs. "Can I paint, too?"

Confused but smiling, Lorne says, "Sure." He kneels down and hands her his brush. As Sheppard walks over, Lorne gives him a questioning look. "Friend of yours?"

"Sorry about that. I should get her back to her tour group."

"No, I want to help paint the rosette," she pleads with wide brown eyes.

"Leave the man alone..."

"That's alright, sir..."

"But we're friends. He's one and I'm two."

"What?" an exasperated Sheppard asks her.

"What did you say?" an intrigued Lorne asks her.

She points to his chest, "One Evan," then to herself, "Two Evans."

"Well, hello, Ville." Lorne pivots on one knee and asks Sheppard, "Is there something I need to know, sir?"

Sheppard sighs, "Yeah. We should probably call the Council together. Excuse me one sec," he turns away slightly, listening. "Yes, Carson, I was just about to call you," he lies easily. "She's with me right now." He requests Beckett and Keller to round up Brown, Zelenka and Wolsey. When he turns back, Lorne has lifted the giggling girl up onto his shoulders.

"Up you go. Okay, kiddo, what d'ya say we blow this popsicle stand?"

"Yay!"

Everyone turns in response to the outburst. Sheppard reassures the room, "It's okay. Lost child. We've found her parents. Everything's under control." He backs towards the door. "Uhm. As you were," he spins abruptly and jogs to catch up. "Lorne! Lorne! Listen, I know you didn't exactly sign up for this, but, uh, you _are_ head of her security detail..."

"Relax, sir. I got this. You're not gonna give me any trouble, are ya, kiddo?"

"Nope. Evan likes me."

With glacial patience, Lorne answers, "Yes, I do. Now let's see how tall you can make yourself so I can relieve the pressure on my vertabrae. That's better. Watch your head." He catches Sheppard's unspoken inquiry. "My sister has a couple of kids. They're easy once you understand their logic."

Sheppard nods doubtfully.


	46. Child's Play

The council room doors open. Lorne sets her on the floor. Ville runs to Keller and hugs her. "Thank you!"

"For...?"

The little girl has already run to Beckett and given him the same. "Thank you for taking care of me."

"Oh my lord," Beckett says and scrunches down to peer into her wide eyes and study her bone structure. "You're just wee babe. How did this happen?" He directs his question to Sheppard accusingly.

"It wasn't me. Everybody, just sit, come to order, whatever. You," he points to Ville, "sit here and behave."

"But I wanna sit next to Katie!"

"Sit. Down," he orders her.

"Here, Ville, you wanna come sit in my chair next Dr. Brown?" Lorne asks.

"Yes, please." She hops onto the seat but immediately takes a laser-point interest in Wolsey's pen as he dates the top of a page in his notebook.

"Fine," Sheppard says evenly and patches himself through to the control room. "Amelia, do you have McKay on the line yet?"

"Icarus _base has acknowledged they're setting up a vid link. They'll dial back as soon as he arrives."_

"Alright, listen up, folks. Yes, this is Ville. No, I don't know why she's taken this form. No, I don't how it happened or how long it will last or if it's permanent. I don't think that's our main concern at the moment. She seems okay, relatively speaking. There's a little communication gap but Lorne's working on that."

"I'd still like to give her a full physical and psychological check up," Beckett insists.

"Please. Do."

Wolsey remarks, "This could be problematic. 'And a child shall lead them'? The media will have field day with this."

"I'll brief Sara as soon as we're done here," Lorne says, noticing with amusement that Ville is straining to see over Wolsey's arm and watch his note taking.

Zelenka mumbles in Czech the switches to English, "This could damage Atlantis' reputation in scientific circles."

Ignoring the scientist's superficial grasp of the situation, Sheppard asks him, "Raddic, how's the work on the Earth outpost going?"

"We've expanded it significally. Upon completion, it should be able to support fifty people, seventy-five maximum with regular resupply."

"What's the structural integrity like?"

"Eventually, continental drift will damage it beyond repair but it'll hold back the ice for several millenia at least. The tunnel from the lower jumper bay to the O'Neill-Carter crevasse is progressing more rapidly now that it is wide enough to accomodate heavy equipment."

"And the jumper hyperdrive?"

"Ready for a test flight."

"Good. Richard, I want make that run before you go back to Washington. Maybe a definite timetable will light a fire under their asses on the SGC issue."

"I don't recommend an aggressive schedule. They may feel backed into a corner."

"I'll be the loose cannon and you can be the reasonable one."

During their exchange, the sound of the Stargate engaging roared in the background. Expectantly everyone turns to the video screen.

 _"Atlantis, come in. This is_ Icarus _base."_

Lorne greets him, "Nice of you to join us, Rodney."

 _"The lift is out. I had to climb seven levels from the gate room just to reach the communication 'shack'."_

Sheppard deadpans, "Maybe you should have a talk with the architect."

 _"Very funny. What's with the emergency meeting?"_

"Ville's awake."

 _"Well that's good. Did she tell you what happened?"_

"She's trying to but she's not making a whole lot of sense."

 _"She can't dumb it down enough for you to understand so you call me. Of course. What's she saying?"_

"She says she had to make herself small again, Rodney. Does that mean anything to you?"

 _"No, size is irrelevant. You probably misunderstood her. Is she there?"_

"Hi, Rodney!" She scurries over to the monitor and pulls herself high enough to look into the camera. "Where are you? Can I come visit? Is it fun there? What are you doing?"

"Didn't anybody ever teach you it's rude to interupt grownups talking?" Sheppard moves her away.

"No."

"Well, it _is_."

 _"Was that a child? I thought this was a council meeting. Oh, I see, this is a joke right? You know, this project would be going much faster if I weren't constantly..."_

"Never mind. We'll come to you. Wait topside for us. Atlantis out."


	47. Just Ask Alice

McKay has time to finish writing a program while he waits and sets it running on his computer tablet. So much to do, no time to waste. A genius' work is never done.

 _"Sir, this is Moorehouse. Sentry on the planet has confirmed a jumper exiting the gate and inbound to_ Icarus _. ETA is a few minutes."_

"Well, it's about time. Patch me through. Sheppard! What took you so long?"

 _"Sorry, Rodney. Beckett wanted to give her a complete exam before we took her off-world - hey, I said not to touch anything!"_

McKay steps out onto the surface as the jumper rotates and lands just outside the rebuilt, and might he say stylish, entrance to _Icarus_ base. The ramp lowers to reveal Carson and a small grinning girl who comes barrelling straight at him.

"Oh, no," he says, "No-no-no." She leaps and gains enough height to cling to him at waist level. "My back, my back."

"I missed you, Rodney!" She tries to squeeze him around the chest but her arms are too short.

"Get off me! Carson, what the hell are you doing bringing a child to our top secret base?"

Sheppard steps out of the jumper. " _Language_ , Rodney. The young lady is the one who asked you to rebuild this base, remember?"

Thoroughly confused and highly irritated, McKay asks, "What are you talking about?"

Beckett uses his doctor voice, "Rodney. This is Ville."

Back inside, McKay paces frenetically. "How did this happen? You shouldn't both be off-world at the same time. How is anybody supposed to take her seriously looking like this? She's supposed to meet the Joint Chiefs next week about folding the SGC into Atlantis. This is a disaster!"

Little Ville plants her fists on her hips and frowns up at him, "Such a whiny baby."

"Hey! Watch it, little sister..."

Beckett touches McKay on the shoulder, "Rodney, this is not helping." He turns to Ville and asks, "Could you try explaining it to us again? One more time? Please."

Desparately trying to make herself understood, she sighs and starts again. "I had to make myself small."

McKay snaps at her. "Why? Why would you need a smaller avatar?"

"So I can get bigger again."

McKay rolls his eyes. "Maybe some cake would help, hmm?"

Beckett and Sheppard look at each other oddly. "Cake?" Beckett asks interrupting McKay in mid-thought.

"Hmm? No, thank you, I'm not really a cake person. Oh you meant...last time I was on Earth, Madison wanted me to read her _Alice in Wonderland_. The most absurd story...," he stops talking altogether.

"Rodney, just so you know, you didn't actually finish that sentence," Sheppard prompts.

"Alice has to drink something to make herself small, then eat something else to make herself big again. I'm right, aren't I?" McKay sits down closer to the little girl. Her eyes are unfocused - a look he'd seen before. "She's having trouble processing. That's why she can't talk, er, make sense. Ville, this could be important. What did you, uhm, drink?"

"Rodney, she wasn't drinking anything. She was getting hit by lightening bolts."

"Which you said yourself, may be have been something other than energy. Ville? Hi. It's your uncle Rodney. What did you drink?"

Quietly, still out of focus and sounding very far away, Ville whispers, "I cleaned up my rooms."

"Rooms, rooms. Okay, that doesn't mean anything to me. This is very weird. She knows what we're asking and she knows the answers but she can't articulate them. The slow response time - she does that when she's data mining the Ancient database."

Sheppard suggests, "She's searching for words and concepts to make us understand."

"Why does she have more than one room?" Beckett asks absently. "Sorry, I was thinking out loud. I come from a family of seven. None of us ever had even one room to ourselves."

Sheppard draws from his own childhood experience. "She has a room in each 'house' that she grew up in. A place in each timeline that she's experienced. Rodney, your theory is she experiences those timelines sequentially, in a linear fashion."

"But somehow she is still aware of them..."

"Whot? Because she recognised me and Colonel Mitchell?"

"So like you said - why does she need to be small?" Sheppard presses onward.

Ville pipes up and points to her head, "Fold-y grey."

McKay wrinkles his nose, "Fold-y grey?"

"Grey matter? Is that what you mean, luv? Aye, that could be it. It's thought that a child's brain is more plastic than an adult's."

McKay adds, "Developing new neurons. That's how children learn language and begin speaking by the time they're only two or three."

Encouraged, Sheppard goes on, "Okay, that's good. What does she need the extra capacity for?"

"Data," says the physicist.

"Mem'ries, perhaps," says the doctor.

"Toys," says the child.

"Oh, no." Sheppard has a sickening feeling. "Ville? Honey? Where's Jonathan?"

In a sad little voice, she says, "He went home."

"Is he okay?"

"He's sad that I took my toys. But he has his own." She starts to cry quietly and buries herself against Sheppard's chest. "I want to go home, too."

"You want to go home to Jonathan?"

"No, I want to go home to Atlantis."


	48. If Our Paths Never Cross

In the rear compartment of the jumper, Ville sleeps, laid out on the bench. Beckett checks the harness securing her in place and covers her with a blanket, then comes forward. "Poor thing, fast asleep. Looks like it'll be back to university for me; I had no idea I was going to be needing to study child psychology, as well."

"That's where you've been? Studying psychology?" McKay asks dismissively, dialing the gate and transmitting his IDC.

"Aye, I just got back from giving my dissertation."

"A Ph.D. of Voo Doo?"

"It's part of the mind and body mandate Ville gave us. Jennifer and I agreed she would take your psyche and I would handle the rest of the city. I'd say I got the fairer part of that bargain."

"Very funny, Carson."

At the end of the short journey, as the jumper ascends into the bay, Sheppard cautions, "Voodoo is actually a very serious belief system, Rodney. You should be careful - you might get cursed."

"Where is your head at, Sheppard? You haven't said a word since we left _Icarus_ until now and it's about voodoo curses?"

"I've been thinking about mythology and ancient Earth religions, trying to make sense of what I saw. She was drawing something into herself, then she...beamed, projected, discharged...something to do with toys and time." He moves past them into the rear compartment.

McKay and Beckett both stare at him, then at each other. Sheppard catches their exchange. "Myth sometimes has basis in fact. Hell, Dr. Jackson's research alone proves that. The Goa'uld pretended to be or maybe even originated ancient gods. The Asgard inspired the Nordic legends. Even Atlantis sinking beneath the waves turned out to be true."

"In a highly distorted fashion," McKay argues.

"I think I see what you're getting on about, John. Like Ville's 'toys' - they're based on something but the meaning's obscured."

"Exactly. If the houses are timelines and her rooms are places in those timelines, maybe whatever she absorbed out on the pier is what she cleared from the rooms." He releases the harness and shoulders the sleeping child, blanket and all.

"I'm tellin' ya, it's data - knowledge, memories and the like."

Beckett chides McKay, "The physical brain is more than just a storage medium."

"She sacrificed her ability to communicate clearly and god knows what other brain functions for whatever these toys are. That means they must pretty damn important so what else could it be?"

"I don't know, Rodney. I think Carson's right, it's gotta be more than ones and zeroes." They exit the bay into the hallway and Sheppard slows to a stop.

Beckett asks, "What is it?"

Ignoring the question, Sheppard repeats, "He's one, I'm two."

McKay asks, "Are you getting something from her?"

Sheppard begins free-associating out loud. "Three sisters. The Fates. It's a tapestry!"

"What's a tapestry?"

"Time. She was pulling on the threads of Time or Destiny, undoing everything, then putting most of it back."

Beckett begins to follow his logic, "Except for _her_ toys. Oh my Lord, did she destroy all the other timelines?"

Sheppard thrust the child at McKay forcing him to take her. Turning to Beckett, he explains, "No. She said Jonathan went home and that he's fine. He was born in a different timeline."

In an awed voice, Beckett realises, "She wasn't making sure _we_ were in the right timeline..."

Sheppard grins, "She was making sure _she_ was in the right timeline, the version of Atlantis she wanted to come home to. I'll catch you guys later."

McKay whines, "Wait, wait, wait. Where are you going?" holding the girl awkwardly, trying not to drop her.

"To prove my theory. I've gotta go talk to a man about the Past. Or the Present. Nevermind, it's all relative."

Beckett clucks disapprovingly at McKay, "Rodney, here, let me take her. I'm surprised that being able to see your niece more often hasn't improved your child skills any at all."

Left in the hallway, flustered, McKay protests, "I was too busy trying to figure out Sheppard's...jabberwocky." He scowls at the passersby. "What?"

* * *

 _"In a certain time, in a certain place/_

 _you touched my hand and you smiled/_

 _all the way down to Emiline"_

 _The shades were drawn. He lay on the couch, his arm over his eyes, listening to the hard spring rain beating down upon the house. He hadn't bothered to shave for a week, since his daughter Kelly last insisted. She had taken to abandoning him to his moods, riding her bicycle to her friends' homes or to her uncle Larry's farm. He was in one of those moods now._

 _He heard the knock on the door, but didn't want to answer it. It was probably a traveler and the rain had been pouring on and off for days. He remembered Kelly was out there. He would expect someone to open their door to his daughter if she were caught in the rain, so he got up._

 _He saw he'd been right : a dark haired boy in his early twenties, dressed in scuffed shoes, ill-fitting trousers, a white T-shirt and a beat up leather jacket. He received a bit of a shock when the boy turned around._

 _"Ahm, sorry, you don't know me. My name's Jonathan...Evans actually - you're married to me mother."_

 _The resemblance was uncanny - like a ghost. With desolate eyes, he stares at the boy._

 _"It's actually her I've come to speak to you about. She's been gone awhile, has she?"_

 _He nods numbly._

 _Jonathan shuffles his feet. "I'm sorry, really I am, but she's not coming back this time. I thought you should know for certain, that you deserved to know."_

 _When one door closes, supposedly another opens. Not this time. He's too damn tired and sick in spirit. He rings up Larry. "Yeh, it's me. Could you send Kelly home, please? There's been some news. No. It's over." He re-cradles the handset and turns to look at the guitar leaning against the wall. Chilled inside, he wonders he will ever play it again._

 _"Come back above, where there is only love/_

 _Let me love you true, let me rescue you/_

 _Let me bring you to where the two roads meet"_


	49. There

The caravan of vehicles drove in from Andrews AFB - two large black SUVs, one leading and one following the black limousine with diplomatic plates.

Lorne, riding shotgun, radios the lead vehicle to get an update on traffic and road conditions ahead of the calvacade. Sheppard and Wolsey ride in the passenger compartment.

"You should wear a tie," Wolsey chides Sheppard for the third time.

"I'm supposed to be the rakish rogue. You're supposed to be the calm, collected and, more importantly, level-headed one."

"And jeans are not really appropriate, I don't care who designed them or how expensive they are."

"It's appropriate for the image I'll be presenting - that I'm only here in Ville's absence to lend a certain weight to your arguments."

"Alpha male posturing is not going to be helpful, John. Ville and I have invested a great of time and effort in these negotiations."

"I promise not to pee in the corners of the room. Happy?"

Wolsey feels sick, "That's disgusting."

Upfront, Lorne smiles and shakes his head. "This is going to be an interesting afternoon."

* * *

"Gentlmen, thank you for coming on such short notice." Wolsey greets the delegates representing member states of the U.N. Security Council, the U.S. Senate Intelligence Committee, the Pentagon and the SGC.

 _'And by short notice, we mean two hours, boys,'_ John thinks. It was actually Sara's idea but he liked it.

Thanks to Sheppard, each listener hears Wolsey's words in his, or her, own language without realising it. No cumbersome ear pieces or translator lag - a pretty cool trick to pass the time and give him the appearance of being bored to death.

Wolsey continues, "Ville sends her regrets that she could not be here to meet with you today. She's asked us to convey her warmest regards." Sheppard refrains from rolling his eyes.

"As we're all well aware, following the city's return to Earth, Atlantis has chosen to refrain from using the Stargate until the issue of priority with respect to off-world access could be amicably determined. After a year's negotiations, however, it seems apparent to us that no resolution is forthcoming.

"We are informing you today that Atlantis will recommence gate travel."

Senator Kinsey snorts rudely. "You can't be serious. Why the hell would Atlantis want to do that?"

Wolsey and Kinsey have history from Wolsey's days with the IOA. Wolsey studiously ignores the outburst. _'Now who's playing alpha male?'_ Sheppard resists the temptation to smile.

"For the most part, these dial outs will be regularly scheduled; Atlantis will coordinate with Stargate Command to avoid any overlap. Rest assured, we agree that military actions in defense of Earth should take precedence over all other missions."

Perceptively, O'Neill asks, "What other missions?"

"Scouting. Resupply. Reconnaisance. Construction on an alpha site."

"What? On who's authority?" Kinsey demands to know.

Again Wolsey refuses to react to Kinsey, continuing to speak to the group as a whole. "Ville has chosen to reclaim another Ancient outpost here in the Milky Way to serve as our alpha site. A Stargate to be harvested from what's left of the intergalactic bridge will be installed within the Earth outpost that will connect only with our alpha site."

"You can't expand the Earth outpost - it violates the ATS."

The Chinese delegate speaks, "With respect to the Senator, the CCAMLR granting Atlantis stewardship of the continent includes defending it from any threat whatsoever. The U.N. Resolution recognising Atlantean sovereignty implies a nation state's right to defend iteself."

Kinsey changes his approach. "If Atlantis is abandoning Earth, the U.N. resolution will be moot anyway."

"Atlantis is leaving Earth?" the German delegate asks Wolsey to clarify.

"There are no immediate plans to do so. Make no mistake. Atlantis is committed to the humans of Earth and the Milky Way galaxy. To that end we have been expanding the Earth outpost with the aim of making it self-sufficient. It will be manned by Atlantean citizens, carrying out the same mission on Atlantean soil."

"Or ice as the case may be," Sheppard wisecracks.

"Once we get our alpha site up and running, it will serve as a base of operations for Atlantis in the Milky Way. We are also committed to the humans of the Pegasus galaxy and their struggles. Atlantis is more than capable of contributing to actions against the armies of the Ori or against the Wraith."

Sheppard mutters, "Maybe we should introduce _them_ to each other, then stand back and watch."

This causes a stir. General Chekov suggests, "The Wraith are no threat to Earth. They have no way to get to Milky Way from Pegasus without Atlantis' unique control crystal."

Suavely, Wolseys begs to differ, "The Wraith defeated the Ancients. They are a technically advanced race who are essentially immortal. They know Earth exists and they have all the time in the universe to figure out how to build a drive that might get them here."

That brought out a calamity of questions and concerns.

"Taking Atlantis back to Pegasus could be very dangerous for Earth."

"They were the first line of defense for five years..."

"Without ZPM, how are you intending to dial back to Earth from Pegasus?" the French delegate asks.

"Don't be ridiculous - obviously they'll carry their own power supply," Kinsey barks.

"Perhaps they do not need a Stargate to cross the void." The Japanese representative nods to Sheppard.

Sheppard nods amiably in return, "I _thought_ that was you watching."

"John." Wolsey says in a quiet aside.

"Relax, Richard. It's not like we tried to hide it or anything."

The Japanese delegate reveals to her colleagues that a solar observatory with experimental sensors successfully detected a jumper launch and a hyperspace window from the other side of the sun.

"Experimental?" Sheppard replies admiringly. "My science guys tell me those sensors are quite sophisticated. Very nice work." He casually comments to Wolsey, "That's why I had Raddic delay the countdown for the return jump. Asia was about to rise above the horizon and I wanted to make sure these folks got front row seats to the show."

The Japanese allows that, "It was...impressive."

Sheppard leans forward to warmly accept the compliment. "Thank you. It is _so_ satisfying to have one's work appreciated in one's own lifetime."

Kinsey rolls his eyes, "Oh, please. If we could postpone the mutual admiration society and get back to business."

Major Davis from the Pentagon asks, "Would you be willing to share that address with us? Your alpha site?"

Wolsey asks frankly, "Would you?"

O'Neill taps the table lightly. "Yeah."

"The SGC catalogue number is JS151967."

Sheppard teases O'Neill just a bit, "A nice little moon we came across in the Ancient database. Bit of a fixer-upper. Small but cozy. It's got a great view of the gas giant in the outer solar system."

O'Neill winces. "Well, you know what they say. Location, Location, Location."

With an expansive gesture, Sheppard grins, "Exactly."


	50. Debrief At 30,000 Feet

Lorne's protocol on these trips begins with a complete sweep of the jet for surveillance or incendiary devices before anyone boards and no confidential discussions below 30,000 feet.

One by one, the members of the security detail report in all clear. "All right, let's seal this bird and get her in the air. The sooner we get back to the Polar Front, the better I always feel."

"Lorne, you should've seen him in there. The man's got ice water in his veins," Sheppard says, clapping Wolsey on the back.

"I've seen him work, sir."

Sheppard relaxes on the passenger lounge couch. "Are you always this wound up on these junkets? Maybe we should put you on administrative leave. Have you seen New Zealand yet? Beautiful - just like in _The Lord of the Rings_."

The steward takes their dinner orders for the evening. Wolsey chooses the vintage and then goes back to work on his notes in his customary window seat. Lorne takes the facing seat, swivels it in Sheppard's direction as the plane taxis.

"I've shielded the plane. Trust me, no one's listening, Evan," Sheppard pops a piece of spearmint gum in his mouth and chases it with champagne.

Wolsey murmurs, "Won't do any good."

"Why?"

"Sir, I'd rather you didn't."

"Why? And don't make me ask again."

Wolsey harumphs at the interruptions, "He doesn't like the idea of you giving off any kind of energy that might interefere with the plane's electronics. Ville says the same thing _every time_ and he answers the same way _every time_."

"And he bitches about it _every time_ ," Lorne says of Wolsey.

"Come on, fellas, traditions are for holidays and funerals..."

"Thirty thousand, sir," Lorne requests succinctly.

"Wake me when we get there." Sheppard catches the eye of the other flight steward first - the female flight steward. "Hi. John Sheppard. I didn't catch your name."

She smiles and opens the wine, presenting the cork to Wolsey. "Excellent choice. That will be fine, Barbara, thank you."

"Barbara? Classic name for a classic beauty," Sheppard lifts his glass in appreciation. She returns his charming smile with a professional one. He watches her legs as she returns to the galley. "Is she seeing anyone?" he whispers to Lorne.

"Oh, I think she's got her eye on someone." Circumspectly, Lorne glances at Wolsey and back again. Sheppard's eyebrows rise as he mouths, _'Really?'_ Lorne shrugs, loosens his tie and settles in for a power nap.

* * *

 _"This is the Captain speaking. We are now climbing through 30,000 feet."_

"And if you'll look out the left side of the plane, folks, you'll see the gremlin on the wing," Sheppard murmurs.

On cue, Wolsey folds up his leather portfolio. Lorne asks, "So how'd it go?"

"We all but told them that Atlantis is leaving Earth," Wolsey grouses as he swivels his chair.

"We told them there are no _definite_ plans, which is technically true," Sheppard counters.

"We all but told them we're rebuilding _Icarus_."

"The others have never heard of it. We didn't mention anything that would confirm our plans for it."

"While you two were in the meeting, I received an encrypted data burst from Atlantis. McKay says the geo-thermal generators at _Icarus_ are online and stable. Zelenka reports the work on the Earth outpost is complete. His team'll have the two jumpers and a complement of drones for the weapons platform in place by the time we return."

"Good. Have you finishing picking your team for _Icarus_?"

Lorne nods, "Pretty much. There are a few Earth-based scientists that haven't signed the non-disclosure agreements yet."

Wolsey cleans his glasses, "Still trying to poach Grumman and Alesandros from me?"

Lorne grins, "I'm just leaving all options open, sir."


	51. And Back Again

As the three men descend the stairs from the jumper bay, Sheppard is saying, "Maybe you should just ask her out, Richard."

Wolsey straightens his jacket. "She's an _employee_. It would be inappropriate. Good evening, everyone."

Sheppard drops his arm around Lorne's shoulder conspiratorily, "We have got to get that man laid."

Lorne grins, "Good luck with that," he glances at his watch before adding, "John. I have a ninety minute turnaround myself."

"Flying back out? What for?"

"I am taking Sara to Sydney for a night at the opera, late night dinner and possibly drinks and dancing afterward."

"Evan, you romantic," Sheppard teases, "No drinking and flying."

"Reservations for adjoining suites - just in case."

"Go. Have fun." He calls out as Lorne walks away, "Give my love to Sara."

"I don't think so," Lorne calls back before turning a corner.

"One down, one to go." He turns to his two favorite tech sargeants, Chuck and Amelia.

Amelia advises him, "Sir, the inquiry you sent to San Francisco? We received a response. They know who Ville is but they've never heard of a Jonathan Evans."

Sheppard nods and bites his lip. Chuck and Amelia trade glances. They've been wondering what that message was about.

Finding Chuck staring at him, Sheppard quickly runs through the list of things he might have forgotten to do and guiltily asks, "What?"

"Not that you'd ever ask, but I've just started seeing someone."

Grateful for the distraction, Sheppard asks, "Really. What's her name? Is she pretty? Does she have a sister? And more importantly has she signed on for the Pegasus leg of the mission?"

"Yes, _he_ has. Robert Jorndon, he's in Flight Engineering."

Amelia groans, "Jorndon? No way, not Jorndon - are you sure?"

"Uh, yeah, I'm pretty sure."

"What about Dr. Parrish? I was thinking of asking him out."

Sheppard furrows his brow disdainfully, "The _botanist_?"

"Mel, you can do much better than Parrish," her partner tells her firmly.

"I just thought it might be fun. It's not like I'm looking for Mr. Right."

Sheppard echoes Chuck's sentiments, "I'm not even sure he qualifies as _Mr. Right Now_."

She sighs, "Well, it's better than waiting for Mr. Unobtainable."

"Still carrying the torch, huh?" Sheppard pats her hand. "As flattered and deeply honored as I am by that," he pauses for her expression to harden, "oh, you meant _Ronon_?" She snatches her hand away and gives him one of her cute frowns. "Trust me, Sargeant, when we get back, if he hasn't found someone, he'll say yes," Sheppard assures her.

"Really? You think so?" she asks hopefully.

"Sure. He's not the most subtle guy. If he doesn't get the hint, I'll point him in your direction."

Amelia blushes, "I don't plan on being too subtle."

Sheppard smiles at her, "Good for you. Listen, you two, I, uhm, I want to say that I'm glad you signed up for the long haul. You're integral members of this operation."

"Thank you, sir."

"Wouldn't miss it for the universe, Colonel."

"I'll check in with you guys later."

After he's gone, Chuck comments, "That is the gayest man I know who isn't actually gay."

"You sure he's not?" Amelia teases.

"Shame, too."

"Maybe he's uhm, you know, 'non-discriminating'?"

"I think he secretes charm the way the rest of us secrete sweat."

"Kinda like pheromones? _Eau de Sheppard_?"

"Yeah. He probably doesn't even know he's doing it."

"Now who's carrying a torch?"

"Please - he's not my type anyway."


	52. Faraway, So Close

Ready to do some serious work for a change, Sheppard returns to his quarters. He stops inside his door at the sight of a young woman sitting on the floor next to his bed, sketching. "I'm sorry - I was under the impression that these were _my_ quarters," he jokes. Her hair shields her face from him but the presence he feels is familiar. "My, how you've grown. Seems like two days ago, you were only eight."

She sniffles, looking up at him with red, puffy eyes brimming with tears. He sits next to her, "What's wrong?" Ville shows him the sketches : an incredibly detailed portrait of Teyla, another of Ronon - right down to the texure of his dreadlocks, a Hive ship, elevations of a dart, an accurate reproduction of cave art he first saw in the catacombs on Athos - when Teyla first explained the Wraith cullings to him. Then there are pages of collages of these various images.

"You think Teyla and Ronon have been captured? Or that they're leading the fight against the Wraith?"

"I keep seeing these individual images in different combinations, but I don't know. That scares me - that I don't know."

He rubs her back. "Colonel Carter once said to me 'the future is predestined by the character of those who shape it.' I didn't know what she was talking about at the time, but I think Teyla and Ronon are definitely shapers. It won't be much longer. We all but told them yesterday that Atlantis is going to be leaving Earth at some point."

She closes her tired eyes, "I was supposed to go to that conference."

"Don't worry about it. Wolsey pretty much ran the table. We dropped just enough information to let O'Neill know we've taken _Icarus_ for ourselves."

"Have you thought about what we should reveal to Colonel Young and his team?"

"Basically the truth - that Atlantis has enough power to dial _Destiny's_ gate now and we'll do everything we can to help them out. We'll know more once we make contact."

"I'm starting to realise how right you were, that even we may not be able to get them home. The ship predates Atlantis by hundreds of thousands of years - pre-ZPM technology. We can't actually put our people on her to study the systems directly..."

"McKay'll come up with something, run some simulations."

"I don't think Rodney's the man for the job. I get a faint sense that Dr. Rush is a deeply angry man. A loss, family perhaps, is driving him."

"Zelenka then. He's used to working with difficult geniuses."

* * *

 _"This is Atlantis calling anyone aboard Destiny, please respond."_

The young officer studying the Gate controls had nearly jumped out of his skin when the wormhole connected of its own accord. When the ship dropped out of FTL, he was anticipating Stargate addresses to come up on the console. Instead...

 _"This is Major Evan Lorne of Atlantis. Destiny, do you copy?"_

He motions Airman Dunning to call Colonel Young. "Uh, Atlantis, this is Sgt. Riley on board _Destiny_. We read you."

 _"Good to hear your voice; thought we had a wrong number for a moment there. Listen, we have approximately 38 minutes of gate activity and we want to get as much done as possible. Is the area around your Stargate clear?"_

"Uh, yes."

 _"Good. We're sending through some supplies we thought you could use : survival gear, medicine, MREs, water purifying tablets. I also have Lt. Col. Sheppard standing by to speak with your commanding officer. Is Colonel Young there?"_

"I am now," Young's gravelly voice announces his arrival, along with the sound of a rifle butt against the floor. Lt. Matthew Scott and Ely Wallace stand with him, gaping at an amazing sight - two people appear in the midst of the cargo coming through the gate, as if they'd walked right though the cases.

"Colonel Young, I presume," the young, amiable Lt. Colonel presents himself.

Young squints at him, "Sheppard, are you out of your mind? Do you and your companion know this is a one way ticket?"

"Oh, no. I mean, not for us because we're not actually here. These are avatars - we're transmitting through the wormhole," he lied a little.

"That is so freaking awesome!"

Sheppard grins, "You must be Ely. You're probably asking yourself 'why oh why didn't I take the blue pill?'"

Ely nods jovially, "Yeah, no kidding. When I when I left home three months ago, I didn't think _this_ would be happening!"

"I know _exactly_ how you feel."


	53. Destiny Unwinding

Ville explains to Young and Scott, "Unfortunately, we don't know if we'll get another shot at this. With two of us talking to several of you, we hope to exchange as much information as possible in the short time we have. I would like your permission to speak with Dr. Rush and his team, including Ely here."

"Granted, but I can't guarantee Rush'll want to talk. He prefers to work the problem alone."

Ville nods, "I was afraid of that."

Young asks Ely to take Ville to Rush. "You want me to escort an avatar?"

"In order to give me as much information as possible on the way, please."

"Oh. Sure. Yeah, okay. Uh, this way. What's your name again?" he asks as they walk away.

Sheppard asks Young, "How's the leg, sir?"

"Holding up. So what's the bad news, Sheppard?"

"Well, we figured out a nine symbol address doesn't work the same as a seven- or eight- symbol one, so we still don't know exactly where you are. If you have any intel on the planets you've been to, any hostiles or other alien encounters, stellar observations..."

"Lt. Scott. Everything we've recorded, download it into a Keno and bring it here. We'll transfer a data burst through the wormhole."

Sheppard continues, "In the first crate we sent through are some computer tablets. We uploaded everything we could find in the Atlantean database that we think might help, but," Sheppard shakes his head regrettfully, "there's no mention of _Destiny_ and only a few obscure references to technology this old. We'll keep looking and have our science teams going over all the data you provide and what our sensors are gathering right now."

"We appreciate that."

"We could relay any _messages_ these folks might want to record," Sheppard offers quietly.

Young acknowledges the sentiment. "Truth is, we did have something like that but we launched it when we thought the ship was going to pass too close to a sun."

"Navigation malfunction?"

"No. Apparently, this ship replenishes its power supply by skimming the corona of a certain class of star."

Sheppards whistles as his eyes widen. "Wow, that's uhm...," he nods his head.

"Yeah. So they tell me." Young is obviously over the novelty already and on to other tasks to keep his charges cooperative and on the same page.

"Colonel. I wish there was more we could do right now..."

"Thanks for the supplies. It's going to help morale...or foster more discontent depending on temperament." Young looks around the hold. "You know, your reputation is..."

"Not all bad, I hope."

Young actually smiles. "For the record, I was going to say 'interesting'."

"Thank you, sir. I was going for interesting."

"If you don't mind, I think some of the men would appreciate a word from someone's who's been in their situation before."

Solemnly, Sheppard replies, "It would be my honor, sir."

* * *

Dr. Rush says brusquely, "As you've said, the wormhole will only be active for a half an hour. That's not nearly enough time to give you a basic understanding of my work before or since our arrival on this ship."

"I can get your research from the SGC and review it at leisure and I understand the main systems have only just come on line since the sundive," Ville counters.

Rush glares at Ely. " _Sundive_ is _not_ an accurate description." Ely holds up his hands in submission, shaking his head.

Ville bites off, "We can name it later." She moves closer to him and lowers her voice, "Nicholas, I know what _Destiny_ means to you and it's not at all what Colonel Young thinks. Knowledge is reason enough but there are so many questions. Why is the ship so large? Why such a high passenger capacity? Were there ever any crew or colonists on board and, if so, what happened to them? What are the ship's mission directives? Dr. Rush, if you want to unlock the secrets of this ship, let me help you."

"This is a waste of my time," he hisses viciously and walks away.

Optimistically sarcastic, Ely remarks, "Looks like you caught him on a good day."

Ville stares after the retreating scientist. "That is one hell of a chip on his shoulder." She moves over to the central console.

Nervously, Ely asks, "What are you doing?"

"Downloading what I can," her hand hovers over the consoles. "Ely," she turns her head to regard him, "How are you holding up?"

"Actually, it's kind of exciting in a scary-as-hell way. Half the time, I pretend I'm in a video game, you know, discovering things and trying not to get killed."

Ville approaches him and smiles. "It's an extraordinary quest and I think you're doing remarkably well. Dr. Rush hasn't made himself many allies, has he? No, you don't have to answer that." She pauses to consider what to say. "He respects you, although he may not show it. You can help him, Ely. Learn as much as you can from him. My fear is that he and Col. Young may not be able to settle their differences. It may be up to you and Matt to carry this group through."

"Me? I don't know about that - I'm just 'Math Boy' around here," he laughs nervously.

"Oh, Ely. You are so much more than that. Trust me. I'm a pretty good judge of character."

"Thanks."

"You're welcome. Well, I've gotten all I can from this terminal. Let's return to the gate, shall we? I'd like you to introduce me to the others."

Sheppard is already circulating amoung the civilians as well as the military personnel when Ely and Ville arrive. Both Atlanteans assure the accidental expedition that Atlantis will attempt to dial in again, hopefully on a weekly basis. This appears to calm the personnel who are less in touch with the emerging leaders of the group.

As the thirty-eight minutes comes to an end, the avatars appear to retreat through the event horizon, leaving _Destiny_ and her passengers to continue their voyage of discovery.


	54. Atlantis Rising

"How are they doing?" Lorne asks during the debriefing.

"Well," Sheppard says, "there's a division along military/civilian lines, not surprising in a crisis situation. There's dissension in the emerging leadership. The younger members are adapting more quickly and readily than the older members. Some of the civilians are uncertain as to what their role in the group should be. Overall, I think our visit had a positive effect."

Rodney, munching a power bar, says, "Food goes a long way to easing anxiety. Trust me, I know."

"Yeah, we can see that," Sheppard observes wryly.

Zelenka asks McKay to give him a hand on setting up the data analysis.

Lorne moves closer to Sheppard. "How'd she handle it?"

"She was her usual brillant and warm self. Emotionally? I think she set her expectations too high. I need to get her back to Atlantis."

"Agreed. We'll check in tomorrow to let you know how the second attempt to dial them goes."

"By the way, what's Sara going to do?"

"She's thinking about staying with the Earth outpost, help Wolsey maintain alliances, basically being his second in command."

"She's certainly a capable lady. Are you two...?"

Lorne shrugs. "We think we can make it work. The new gate in the O'Neill-Carter crevass is operational so we're just a puddle jump and a gate apart."

"Glad to hear it. And the DHD?"

"Done. The McKay-Zelenka drive got a nice workout in the process. We used the hyper-jumper to retrieve the damaged DHD from Ernst Littlefield's planet and scavenged some parts from others to put together a functioning device. The Earth outpost will still have its leverage."

"Let's just hope it doesn't ever come to that. Well," Sheppard extends his hand to shake Lorne's, "Good luck, Evan. Make us proud."

"Thank you, sir. Take care of each other. Remember - no wild parties," he adds wryly. Sheppard deadpans, "No promises."

All too soon, it seems, the Day comes. Her words are carried through the public address system to the inhabitants of the city and the outpost, through the active Stargate to the inhabitants of _Icarus_.

"Today is yet another historic day in the long history of humankind. Though it may seem a sad day for us, I assure you it is a day of Hope.

"Some of you will stay behind on the planet of your birth to help your brothers and sisters shape the future of humanity for the generations who follow. I am in awe of your efforts and aspirations.

"Others of you have elected to provide a lifeline for those cast out onto the ocean of the universe, to help them succeed in their unintended voyage of discovery of the cosmos and of those who came before. I am humbled by your compassion and selflessness.

"The rest of you have chosen to return to another galaxy, there to fight alongside Earth's distant cousins struggling to free themselves from the fear and oppression of their ancient enemy. I am honored to join you on your self-appointed mission.

"Our small family now numbers three but we will always be One. Our interdependance is not our weakness but our strength. I have no doubts that all of you will prevail in your endeavors. Atlantis will rise. Icarus will fly. Earth remains...the point of origin."


	55. Through The Void

The remainder of the Council convenes in Ville's office by unspoken agreement : Ville, Sheppard, McKay, Keller and Beckett. Katie Brown remained with Wolsey's team on Earth, Zelenka with Lorne's team on _Icarus_.

Ville begins, "First order of business - do we want to replace four members of the council?"

Oddly, everyone looks to McKay. "What?"

Beckett says, "Lt. Cadman _is_ head of security now."

"Believe it or not, I am actually okay with that now," McKay insists. He looks to Sheppard. "What do you think?"

Sheppard demurs, "I think we need to stop putting all your ex-girlfriends on the Council."

"She was _never_...oh, shut up. I was talking about whether we actually need more Council members. We're flying off to fight the Wraith. Leading the fight - well, that's your job, so what do _you_ think?"

"So what's your job?"

"Saving our asses from impossible, hopeless situations - as usual."

"Mine is patching you all back up after you survive those impossible, hopeless situations," Keller volunteers.

"I need to get back to work on the retro-virus. It's still our most promising solution to the Wraith...problem," Beckett admits.

Sheppard sums up, "The Pegasus mission is less diverse. We don't need an executive paper pusher or a lawyer anymore. Our numbers are fewer and like it or not, Atlantis is going to be on a war footing. We can continue exploring as much as we can as long as we don't compromise defense. We'll activate as many of our old contacts as still exist and make new friends. Getting Ronon and Teyla back in the fold is a high priority. If we want a bigger council, we can include them."

"Well, seven is a lucky number," Keller tries to joke.

"Aye, that'll do."

"I'll take over the day to day operations again to free you up for the military missions," McKay sighs.

"I already got that covered. Chuck and Amelia can handle most of it."

"We can still do some science," Ville says.

"Yeah, _weapons research_ ," McKay complains.

"Rodney," she assures him, "I'll continue searching the database for anything we can use here in Atlantis or pass along to Earth or _Icarus_."

"Additional improvements to the technology we have a handle on, like your wormhole drive would be useful. We could also use some more ZPMs or alternate power systems," Sheppard suggests, "that would allow Ville and I to both be off-world for an extended period of time, if a situation called for it."

Beckett bemoans, "I'd hate to find out what kind of situation would call for that to happen."


	56. With Extreme Prejudice

After the planning session breaks up, Sheppard and Ville remain behind through an unspoken accord.

She says, "Both of us off-world?"

He says, "I've got an idea, a strategy. It stands a better chance of succeeding if we do it together." She waits patiently. "I've had several run-ins with Wraith queens before..." He offers up sensations of the mental struggles against a queen trying to force his mind.

"You want to use your abilities to force information out of a queen?"

"Teyla was once able to _control_ a queen using her gift, for a short while anyway." He offers her the memory and, biting his lip, waits for her reaction.

"To rescue the team," she nods. "Why do you want to control a queen? To force her to blow up her own hive?"

"Why did the Ancients lose?"

"They were pinned down. Outnumbered. All their outposts were overrun. No reinforcements."

"Right. We destroyed one cloning facility before the expedition was recalled to Earth. We need to find out if there are more."

Patiently, she says, "Alright?"

"Also whether they use any centralised creches. Any children we find, we can quarantine. They can help Beckett in his research on the retro-virus. Otherwise, we destroy the enemy's ability to increase their numbers."

"By destroying cloning facilities and nurseries?"

Boldly looking her in the eye, he lays it out, "We know there are only sixty or so hive ships in the galaxy. We also know not all of them have a queen. Some of the hives form alliances loyal to a single queen. We kill all the queens and this becomes a war of attrition, the goal in sight." He waits for a reaction.

Her thoughts are veiled. She stands up and paces several steps away from him before turning. "My god, John..."

He advances and cuts her off, "Ville, they are _not_ human. They are the enemy and they will not stop. They've been terrorizing and slaughtering the humans in this galaxy for generations and they will continue to do so without mercy unless we end it. That's what we came back here to do."

"We did not come back here to commit genocide, John."

"Well, how did you think we were going to win this?!"

"They evolved from humans. If not for a random environmental factor, they might have been purely human. If their ancestors had made different choices dealing with victims of the Eratus insects, there might be no Wraith."

"But there are. The Ancients - your father's people - created them. You don't feel any obligation to correct that mistake?"

"Elizabeth's research suggests there was no mistake, just an accident of evolution. The Ancients planted the seeds, nothing more. Nature took its course."

"Elizabeth also determined that the Wraith language is a derivative of the Ancients' language. Those hybrids went to war with the rest of the galaxy using knowledge they gained from the Ancients. Either way you cut it, the Ancients were responsible."

"If the Ancients had been irresponsible enough to allow their technology to contaminate Wraith culture then you might have an argument but from what I can tell Wraith tech is organic and developed independently from anything the Ancients had." She stops him from interrupting, "but let me concede your point for a moment. When did _we_ become responsible for fixing all the mistakes of the Ancients?"

"We're trying to save lives."

"Everything dies, John."

"Not like this, not for the innocent. Keeping these people in the dark ages, preventing them from fighting back or developing the means to stand up for themselves? That's not right and you know it."

"Carson and Jennifer don't know enough to draw any conclusions about their physiology or development. Have you noticed the vestigal gills on their faces?"

"What?"

"The Eratus insects have an aversion to salt water. Gills suggest that at some point, Wraith evolved to adapt to a marine environment. Why did that happen? We don't know. That's my point. We need to learn more about them."

"Agreed and for that, you'll have to go off-world."

"Agreed."

"Good." He seems relieved.

"John. Whatever course of action we take to eliminate the threat posed by the Wraith will not make up for Colonel Sumner's death."

He scowls then takes a deep breath. "No, it won't. Not one night goes by that I don't remember that moment. I remember the look he gave me. I remember making a _conscious_ decision. I remember precisely how much pressure I exerted on the trigger to fire the shot. I remember the sound of the bullet entering his chest."

She closes the distance between them the way only she can. _'Do you remember the relief in his eyes?'_ He allows her to enter the memory and take him back to that moment. He feels her presence with him as he squirms up to the grating and peers at the scene below, trying to make sense of what was happening to Sumner. "Doesn't matter," he says.

 _'It mattered to him.'_

He pushes her out. "Are you going to help me or not?"

"I need to know more."

He persists, "Are you going to try stop me?"

"No, but I won't stop trying to talk you out of it."

Relieved, he agrees, "Fair enough."


	57. One Door Opens For Teyla

"Seriously, why do _you_ need to carry a gun with all your superpowers?" McKay asks Sheppard as they wait for the Stargate to connect.

"Because a show of force requires a 'show'," the Colonel indicates with the P90. "And if you were the only one carrying a gun, who do you think would get shot at first?"

"True," he turns to Ville, "so why aren't you carrying a P90 instead of a handgun?"

"Because most cultures underestimate a woman's offensive capabilities."

"Oh. Why am I not comforted by that?"

Sheppard comments, "I thought you said you missed going off-world?"

"Except for the getting shot at part. And the getting captured part. And the threat of imminent death."

"We're going to New Athos, but if it'll make you feel better, I'll take point. Ville, cover our six. Rodney, stay behind me."

"I _always_ stay behind you," McKay says but quickly amends for Ville's information, "and by 'behind' I mean, I've got his back. As usual."

"Yes, Rodney, and now I've got your back. Just relax."

* * *

"Ronon! Hey, buddy, oof!" Sheppard gasps as Ronon grabs him in a bear hug. "Good thing I don't need to breathe," he mutters.

"You're back!" Ronon roars joyfully.

"Rodney, Ville, it is good to see you both again," Teyla greets them. She faces Sheppard and places her hands on his shoulders. They briefly touch their foreheads to one another's in the formal Athosian gesture of friendship. "It is good to see you as well, John."

"Likewise," he smiles brilliantly then wisecracks to Ronon, "but we didn't expect to find you here, Chewie."

"When did your people get back?"

"Not long, we're still settling in. Thought we'd drop by," Sheppard motions to Teyla, "see how the family's doing. Maybe catch up."

Teyla informs them, "It is almost time for the evening meal. Please. Join us."

After the meal, Ville begs leave of Teyla. "This is only the second time I've left the city unattended so Rodney and I really should be getting back to make sure everything's alright."

McKay starts to say, 'but you would know if there was something wrong' when Ronon slaps him on the back, "Mind if I join you?" he grins.

Ville smiles at him, "Of course. I think someone else has taken up residence in your old quarters..."

"You can borrow my room for the night," Sheppard offers, "Just go easy on the golf clubs."

McKay raises one finger, "Where are you...?"

Ronon pulls McKay along, "Let's go." As they got farther away, Ronon could be heard saying, "Missed ya, buddy."

"Really?" a surprised McKay answers.

"No."

"Oh. Funny."

Teyla, Sheppard and Ville laugh together once the two are out of earshot. Ville turns to Sheppard, "I'll tell the evening shift not to wait up for you."

"I'll try to be home before my curfew," he jokes.

* * *

Sitting by a small fire sheltered in the mouth of a cave not far from the village, Sheppard and Teyla sit quietly, weapons near at hand just in case. Teyla has her Wraith sense, enough to give her people warning, but, without a concentrated effort, it's limited in scope. Sheppard gazes at the sky, pushing his awareness out to high orbit. No one's getting culled tonight.

Teyla watches his face - flickering light illuminating one side of his face, stark starlight falling on the other. As a metaphor for his personality - warm and charming on one hand, cool and calculating on the other - it is an apt one.

A dear friend, he is nevertheless an alien to her and her people, the product of a culture very different than any other she has ever encountered. In a retrospect of their first meeting, she realised he had been flirting with her but becoming more circumspect in the space of that single day, having been thrust into command suddenly and unexpectedly. She had empathised, remembering all too well the traumic circumstances in the days before she assumed the mantle of leadership for her people.

At some point during her first year in Atlantis, a boundary slowly formed, defining their relationship as one of friendship and mutual regard, nothing more. There have been times when she has been in awe of him, other times when she has been protective of him. He has always treated her as an equal, trusted in her completely yet she recognised early on there is a part of him that remains locked away, not just from her but from all who would be his friends.

Something grey and lonely, she suspects that it drives him to seek out new relationships hoping some day to find someone with whom he can finally open up to completely. In Athosian society, there is no such thing as a single perfect mate when living long enough to find such a figure is unlikely. Children are the future and, in the shadow of the Wraith, the future cannot wait.

"John. You seem preoccupied. Is everything all right?"

He turns toward the fire and admires her beauty, physical and spiritual. It's easy to be quiet with her. Too easy. He knows the window between them closed long ago - he'd deliberately let it. From the moment they met, he knew she would help him and that he would come to rely on her. It would have been easy to fall into something physical but he was in no hurry to pass that way again. Nancy had been once enough.

Tentatively, he says, "I've always trusted you and you've always been open with me. Well, except," catching the look in her eye, he decides not to go there, "anyway I need to tell you something that's happened to me since the last time we saw each other. It's, uh, kinda out there."

Puzzled, Teyla glances out of the mouth of the cave. He adds, "I mean it's pretty unbelievable and kind of hard to explain." Suddenly inspired, he holds out his hand. "Can I show it to you?"

After a moment's consideration, she lays her hand across his palm. He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. She follows suit.

She senses a presence and her heart skips a beat but it is reassuring, inviting even. It begins to unfold gently in her mind like the petals of a...rose? She does not know what that is. It transforms into a flowering plant which, to Athosians, signifies a deep, abiding love. The bloom opens to reveal an astonishing personal transformation.

 _A slow running brook with verdant banks - it might well be a scene from her childhood. John walks up and settles on the grass beside her. He is no longer wearing his uniform but other casual clothing she has never seen and he is carrying a pair of...?_

 _'Loafers,' he explains._

 _'How is this possible?'_

 _He grins at her. 'I've been practicing.'_

 _'You are doing this?'_

 _'Yes.' He watches her face for a reaction._

 _She glances around. 'This is incredible.'_

 _Apologetically, he says, 'I know it's not exactly like you remember it,' he points past her, 'and I wouldn't walk too far in that direction. It just sort of goes white.'_

 _'I do not know what to say.'_

 _He says earnestly, 'You don't have to worry about me, Teyla.'_

 _'Are you planning on doing something that would cause me to worry about you?'_

 _'Probably. I understand you want to stay with your people, your family. That's the right thing for you.'_ He pats her hand. She opens her eyes.

Sheppard stokes the fire against the night chill. 'The sun'll be up soon. You should get some sleep. I'll keep watch."

"John."

"Goodnight, Teyla." He moves to the entrance and hunkers down.

"Goodnight, John."

The next morning, Teyla sees him off at the gate. "We'll reach out to Atlantis' former trading partners to determine who can still be trusted and who may be willing to renew an alliance."

Sheppard nods. "Thanks. And I'd like the word to get out to Todd that his old friend is looking to meet up with him."

"You think you can trust him?"

"Absolutely not. Ville should talk with him though. She needs to get a better understanding of the enemy we're up against."

"Very well." When neither says a word, she rises on her toes and briefly presses her lips against his check. "Go safely, John."

His expression tightens but his eyes say all the things he doesn't want to say. He hesitates then he gently kisses her lips and presses his forehead against hers. She barely hears him say, "Goodbye, Teyla." He turns quickly and walks to the gate, turning briefly before he steps through the event horizon.

She turns her head away suddenly as if he still might see her reaction from the other side of the gate. Hugging herself fiercely, she lets the sun fall on her face to ward off any regrets. From far away, someone hails her. Her husband Kanaan grins and waves at her from across the field. A joyful grin appears on her face and she waves back.

Usually, when one door closes, another one opens. The gate shuts down as Teyla Emmagan walks back toward the life she has choosen for herself.


	58. On Door Closes For John

As soon as he reappears in the gate room, he signals Amelia to shut it down. He immediately clears the floor, disappearing into the city's hallways.

Ronon intercepts him on the way to the armoury. "So. How'd it go?"

"The Athosians will try to get in touch with any partners that we can trust. Oh, and generally spread the rumour that I'm back and want to catch up with my old buddy Todd."

"I meant with Teyla."

Sheppard starts removing his gear and securing his weapons. "She's pretty confident we can get our intelligence network up and operating again." He finds Ronon staring at him implacably. "What?"

"You stayed all night. Just to talk," Ronon states in his flat _I-dare-you-to-lie-to-me_ voice.

Forcefully and with honest sincerity, Sheppard's able to answer firmly, "Yes. We talked." He closes up the equipment locker.

Ronon crosses his arms. "Nothing else happened."

Sheppard uses his _I-am-your-commanding-officer-and-you-will-not-screw-around-with-me_ voice, "She's married. They have a _kid_. So, no, nothing happened."

"So what did you guys talk about all night?" Ronon persists in his annoyingly casual tone.

Sheppard jabs his much taller, larger and wider friend in the solar plexus. "Laugh it up, fuzzball," he quotes and marches off.

Grinning, Ronon calls after him, "Oh, yeah. You're out of popcorn. Sorry about that." Sheppard storms around the corner and Ronon grins. "That never gets old."

Sheppard doesn't even have to call her. Ville gives him a sympathetic look. "Rough morning?"

In a petulant play for more sympathy, he flops down on his bed with his head in her lap. She scratches him behind the ear. "Don't you start with me, too," he warns her.

Banishing a laugh, she asks, "Did you tell her how you feel?"

"Yes. Yes, I did."

"Did you use _actual_ words?"

"Well...no. I didn't need to. I used symbolism. Very effectively, I might add," he says in a boastful-yet-defensive way.

She rubs his arm and massages the nape of his neck, in a maternal fashion, encouraging him to continue.

"She can't rejoin the team. She doesn't want to, I mean. No point in offering her a seat on the Council. If there's ever going to be a galactic alliance, she's going to be a big part of it though."

"Assuming she lives that long." Ville states it as fact.

Sheppard presses his face against her thigh. "I lived through her death once already and this time I let her know how...that I care about her. What more do you want?" Under her hands, he begins to let go.

"What I want for you is what you need. Balance. Tranquility. Self-regard. To be whole. Don't forget who you are, John."

"Why would I want to remember that?" He shifts onto his back so he can look up into her eyes. "You know why I came to Atlantis in the first place, with Elizabeth? I _wanted_ to become a different person. I screwed up and I didn't know how to fix it. So I moved on; I wanted a situation where I couldn't afford to look back. This was my Hail Mary play."

Ville waits patiently, stroking his hair - something he normally hates. He always considered it a sign that this should be the last date with whichever woman he happened to be seeing at the time. This is different, of course.

He covers her hand and places it on his chest. Her other hand rests on his forehead. ' _You don't have to show me.'_

He closes his eyes and breathes out, "I know."

He pushes open the heavy doors to let her into the memories he wants her to see.


	59. Your Dad Was Always Good To Me

_As Nancy shuddered, gasping, a second time, John rolled off her and onto his back with a sore prick. She moaned,"Oh god, that was wonderful," nuzzling his neck and reaching down to cup his balls. "You didn't even come," she realised. With a sly grin, she started to slide down, "I can take care of that..."_

 _He gripped her elbow. "Nance...I need a couple hours of sleep." He turned on his side, closed his eyes and prayed she would let it go._

 _please-don't-say-anything please-don't-say-anything please-don't-say-anything_

 _"John?"_

 _He grimaced into his pillow. "Yeah."_

 _"Are you alright?"_

 _"Yeah, I told you, I just need some sleep."_

 _please-don't-say-anything please-don't-say-anything please-don't-say-anything_

 _"It's just that you seem...moody since you got back from your last deployment. Did something happen?"_

 _"No."_

 _"Would you tell me if something had?"_

 _"You know I canít talk about it."_

 _"Damn, John, I worry about you."_

 _"Well, don't."_

 _"How can I not? I don't like what this job is doing to you."_

 _"I told you most of my work is classified. What did you think it was going to be like? Nancy, you're a colonel's daughter..."_

 _"Yeah, and I always knew where my father was stationed. But you? You take these assignments you canít talk about, not even where you're going or for how long and I never hear from you until you get back."_

 _damnit-damnit-damnit-damnit-damnit-damnit-damnit-damnit-damnit-damnit_

 _He threw off the covers and grabbed his shorts. "We are_ _ **not**_ _having this discussion."_

 _She laid her hands on his shoulders and kissed the back of his neck. "John, I care about you too much to watch you turn into a stranger. I want you in my life not just in my bed."_

 _i'm-sorry-i-can't i'm-sorry-i-can't i'm-sorry-i-can't i'm-sorry-i-can't i'm-sorry-i-can't_

 _He let her have a moment until he felt her fingers curling in his hair. Grabbing his pillow, he informed her, "I'm going to use the spare room to get some sleep - I gotta be on base early."_

* * *

 _His C.O. strongly encouraged him to take some leave._

 _After a day or so, he loosened up into his usual charming, witty self. He bought her flowers and a diamond choker. They took the dogs to the park together everyday. He took her out for dinner and dancing. He attended all her social functions cheerfully, praising her successes to her peers, the supportive and doting husband as far as their friends and acquaintances are concerned._

 _When she accepted the job at Homeland Security they had The Discussion. He was still assigned to the command at Pederson in California. The Homeland Security job was in D.C._

 _"You can put in for a transfer, maybe to Andrews."_

 _"No. I can't."_

 _"If they deny it, fine, but you're not even gonna ask?"_

 _He poured himself a bourbon. "They grounded me. I'm not going anywhere for awhile." He hadn't told her about the upcoming hearing into the Afghanistan clusterfuck. Of course, if they busted him out of the Air Force for it, he'd be able to go wherever she wanted. But he couldn't tell her any of this. Not yet. "You should take the job at Homeland," he said sincerely, "You earned it."_

 _"Grounded? Why? God, John. Are you putting your career ahead of me or is this your way of pushing me away?"_

 _It was like flipping a switch. He turned on her menacingly. "Are you calling me a liar?"_

 _Nancy was fearless. "No. I know how much you love flying. John, how are we going to raise a family like this? Face it, we're barely keeping it together here."_

 _"Well, there's one thing you won't have to worry about - kids."_

 _"Oh, no, you cannot just decide that and expect me to sign off on it."_

 _Emphatically, he stated, "I am not having kids. With anyone."_

 _She threw up her hands, exasperated, "What is that supposed to mean?"_

 _"That lump you were afraid was cancer? Swelling," he stressed smugly, "after the surgery."_

 _Her eyes and mouth went wide. "That was six months after we got married. Oh, and, of course, it never occurred to you that I might want to have kids."_

 _He started to take another drink, "You still can. A little discretion and the old man'll never notice."_

 _She cracked him across the jaw. "You son of a bitch! You know damn well I don't care who your dad is or how much money he has."_

 _Wiping the blood off his lip, he said admiringly, "Nice hook. I think you managed to chip a tooth."_

 _"All I ever cared about was you, John. Just you."_

 _"Cared," he laughed to himself and refilled the glass._

 _"How much of that have you had to drink? Seriously. I want to know how much crap I have to beat out of you before you even start feeling it."_

 _"Oh, this is my favorite part where you tell me that you've loved me since we were kids and the day we got married was the best day of your life."_

 _"And then you remind me that I should've known better because you only proposed after finishing off the worm at the bottom of a tequila bottle."_

 _"That was top-shelf stuff," he reminded her, "You can't even buy that stuff stateside."_

 _"Damn it, John, this isn't funny. Why do you have to make everything so damn hard? Is it really so hard to believe that I love you?"_

 _He laughed out loud. "You hate my guts, Nancy."_

 _"No! No, I don't because I know better. I watched you date one girl after another after another and it always ended the same : you'd provoke them into breaking up with you. That's how I know you still care about me or you would've been gone a long time ago. You're scared that you're not good enough for anybody because your mom treated you like crap."_

 _He grabbed her and swung her up against the bar. He didn't mean to hit her. In fact, he missed and made sure it was the bottle of bourbon that ended up smashed on the tiles. In a low and controlled fury, he said, "You don't know what the hell you're talking about and this subject is off limits. Understand?"_

 _She pushed back and walked past him. "Fine, but you can forget about the make-up sex because I'll be too busy moving my shit into the spare bedroom until I get a place in D.C."_

 _"Fine!" he bellowed after her and then pitched the glass into the backsplash so that most of the pieces fell into the sink. Easier to clean up that way._

 _The divorce took two years of heated negotiation, not so much between the petitioners themselves as with their respective attorneys who continued to argue in their clients' best interests._

 _John wanted Nancy to keep the house and insisted on a stipulation that in the highly unlikely event he inherited anything, she would receive half even though they weren't married anymore. Nancy made it clear that she was not interested in the Sheppard family fortune but if it would make her lawyer happy, she would agree to stipulate that any inheritance passed to her would be donated to a local children's hospital - in John's name. "That way, he'll have children by proxy whether he likes it or not."_

 _She took the job and moved to D.C._

 _He was let off the Afghanistan incident with a black mark on his permanent file and allowed to transfer. On a whim he chose Antarctica because "it was the only continent I'd never stepped foot on."_


	60. A Bad Good Guy

On their first scouting mission to a recently culled planet, Ville examines a desiccated corpse, sensing the deceased's last moments of sheer terror and panic. "What killed this man showed no mercy. This was vicious. More than that, the creature that did this reveled in the act."

Sheppard adds, "They basically suck the life out of us but they can give it back. They call it the Gift of Life."

"They may be able to give back what they stole but no one can bestow the Gift of Life."

"You're not seriously talking about a soul, are you?" McKay scoffs.

She communes with the dead for a few more moments. "What was taken from this victim is not unique to humans."

McKay asks, "If Wraith can get the same sustenance from animals, why bother feeding on us bothersome humans?"

"I don't _know_ that their physiology allows them to feed on animals. I merely said the essence that was taken from this human also exists in other life forms."

Ronon tells her, "They like the challenge of breaking humans."

Sheppard concurs with Ronon. "It's our minds, our emotions they get off on. So how does this slot into your hierarchy of evil?"

"The commitment to take a life should be personal and purposeful, not taken lightly. If they are able to feed on lower life forms, this could be considered gluttony. Such a killer would rank as morally evil." Ville twists on one knee to look up at the Colonel. "You'll pardon me if I refrain from extending that judgement to blanket the entire species without more data?"

"Yeah. Let's move on."

The team finds survivors, few enough to fit in the jumper. Sheppard offers to take them back to Atlantis and resettle them on the mainland. The survivors in return offer their labor and expertise to help the Atlanteans plant crops that will help feed the city.

On the journey back to the space gate, Ville speaks quietly with them about their ordeal.

From the pilot's seat, Sheppard feels the aura-or-whatever as she weaves a sense of safety around them so they may speak without reliving their fear so completely. In the co-pilot's seat, McKay appears uncharacteristically composed. Behind him, Ronon, well, quiet and severe are normal for Ronon. Sheppard feels it working on himself as well and thinks to only himself, ' _Damn, she's good.'_

McKay rouses himself from his ruminations. "Hang on, I'm picking something up."

Sheppard brings up the HUD. "What is it?"

"A signal. Huh. On the same frequency as Todd's transponder."

Ronon recalls, "That transponder was destroyed."

"He must have built another one," McKay concludes.

Ronon counters, "Why would he want us to be able to track him?"

Sheppard says, "He's not," and directs the HUD to zoom in on a section of the star chart, "he's left it where he wants us to meet him."

"Does that planet have a gate?" Ronon leans forward.

"Checking...yes. A space gate." McKay looks to Sheppard. "What do you want to do?"

Sheppard bites his lip and glances back at his passengers in the rear. "We can't take these people to a meeting with a Wraith. We'll just have to be fashionably late. Dial Atlantis."

* * *

The three men walk abreast across the field to the meeting point. McKay guides them using the detecter in energy signature mode. "The signal's coming from that direction," he points and switches the device to bio-signature mode.

Ronon rumbles, "I don't see anybody."

Sheppard assures him, "They're around."

"Give the man a prize. We've got life signs at...well, everywhere but behind us although the further forward we go, the easier it'll be to cut us off from the jumper. I feel like the Clantons at the OK Corral."

"The who at the what?" Ronon asks.

Sheppard objects, "More like Wyatt Earp and Doc Holiday - we're the good guys, remember?"

"I think Wyatt Earp was more of a bad-good guy."

Ronon asks again, "Who's Wyatt Earp?"

"He was a lawman, kinda like a sheriff," Sheppard explains.

"More like a murderer, especially the way he took down Billy The Kid."

"He killed a kid? What kind of lawman is that?"

"My point exactly," McKay says as Sheppard protests, " _Pat Garrett_ took down The Kid, who _was_ an outlaw."

Ronon suddenly froze. "Movement."

"Rodney?" Sheppard asks, reining in his senses in case the Wraith could detect him.

"The ones to the left and right of us are falling back. I guess that's comforting."

"I'll take point from here," Sheppard orders them, "safeties off, move out." For Ronon, that means switching his gun's setting from stun to kill.

McKay tucks away the detector to unholster his sidearm and chamber a round. "Keep everything looking normal," he reminds himself.

"That includes you sounding nervous and me telling you to shut up," Sheppard says.

"Right. Ready when you are," McKay assures him. Sheppard glares over his shoulder. "Ah. Shutting up. Right now. Okay."

About one hundred yards out, they see two Wraith soldiers break cover. Sheppard steps into firing position aiming the P90 at the one on the right. Ronon follows suit, targeting the one on the left while McKay watches the right flank.

Neither side moves for a few moments. Then a tall, thin, pale figure comes into view. Sheppard lowers his muzzle slightly and starts forward again. He nods in greeting. "Long time, no see."

A baritone chuckle carries across the space between them. "It is surprising to see you again, John Sheppard. There was talk that your people had gone into hiding or fled the galaxy altogether. However, I suspected we would not be rid of you so easily."

Sheppard nods jovially, "It's hard to keep a good man down."

"Ah, yes. And you want to, how do your people say? 'Catch up on old times', yes?"

"More like compare the latest intel, gossip, any new hot spots that might have opened while we were busy."

"You are willing to share information? I do not think you have anything useful to trade."

"Okay. Here's a freebie. It's not common knowledge yet, but Atlantis has a new, oh, let's call her a 'ruler.' She's asked me to bring her up to speed on all things Pegasus. I want to be as thorough as possible, you know, impress the new boss, and I knew you would be the perfect source for anything I might have overlooked."

Todd laughs long and hard. "Ah, forgive me. I have so missed your sense of humour. A queen in Atlantis," he continues to chuckle.

McKay shifts uncomfortably, "Well, not so much a queen, not like a monarch, more of a...ah, head of state. Figurehead, if you will. More symbolic than...ah." He cuts himself off at seeing Sheppardís too-much-information glare. "Shutting up again."

"What McKay means is, she rules because _we_ chose her for the job."

A knowing gleam appears in the Wraith's eye. "You have broken ties with Earth. How very interesting."

Sheppard smirks, "No comment."

"And that means...?"

Ronon flashes him a predatory grin, "All bets are off."

McKay murmurs, "Like the wild West."

"So," Sheppard lays it out for Todd with a pleasant smile, "You and yours can be our friends again...or end up on the losing side." At his gesture, McKay tosses over a thumb drive adapted to work with a Wraith data retrieval device. "That's a gate address. We'll meet you there in two days. If you're lucky, our...'queen' might decide to grace you with her presence."

Ronon adds, "And if you're really lucky, she'll be in a good mood."


	61. Her Eyes, Her Aspect

Back at the jumper, McKay berates Ronon, "That was unnecessarily provocative, don't you think? 'If she's in a good mood.' You realise we were outnumbered about five to one?"

Ronon quotes, "For a minute there, I thought we were in trouble."

"Oh, very funny, Butch."

"Will you relax, Rodney, I had the situation covered," Sheppard reminds him.

"You're sure he didn't sense any of your superpowers?"

"Nah."

"Actually, he did," Ronon corrects. "You smell funny."

Sheppard turns to see if his friend is serious. "What are you talking about?"

"You don't smell like anything. No sweat. No oils. Nothing."

Sheppard bites his lip and realises, "I hadn't thought of that."

"So? Just slather on the Aqua Velva from now on and nobody'll know the difference," Rodney uses his _hello-we-just-survived-another-Wraith-encounter-and-you're-worried-about-body-odor_ voice.

 _...back in Atlantis_

"And can I say again for the record that I think this is a really bad idea?" Rodney repeats to Ville. "I don't think you should both go."

Ville catches his fidgeting hands and says soothingly, "Yes, Rodney, I know you're concerned about the power situation. That's why you're staying."

"Yes, but if something goes horribly, terribly, catastrophically wrong and you and Sheppard don't come back, this city is screwed."

"Take a deep breath, Rodney. You've prepared us for this, remember? You constructed the energy reserve system, outfitted most of the jumpers with a hyperdrive, drew up evacuation protocols. You've had Carson running simulations in the chair and Cadman drilling damage control teams. You are going to do a fine job."

Sheppard chooses that moment to come bounding down the stairs from the jumper bay. "Okay, kids, the car's all packed; time to hit the road." He pauses at Amelia's station and asks in sotto voice, "Is McKay still having his panic attack?"

McKay snaps, "I can hear you. And it's not just the city I'm worried about."

Sheppard nods to Amelia, "That would be a 'yes.' Come on, Rodney, we'll have her home by midnight, I promise."

* * *

For show, Sheppard and Ronon are accompanied by two of Cadman's people. While Ronon carries his usual complement of personal weaponry - gun, sword, and untold numbers of knives - Sheppard looks for all the world like he's taking a pleasant afternoon stroll - with only a knife and a 9mm strapped to his waist.

"I'm startin' to think McKay was right. This is a bad idea."

"Nah, McKay thinks she and I going off-world at the same time is a bad idea."

Ronon insists, "She doesn't know anything about the Wraith. What is she gonna do, invite him back to Atlantis to paint in the mess hall? Why does she even need to be here? I can beat everything we need out of him."

"Ronon, go to your happy place," Sheppard cajoles. "I don't know what she's got in mind but I'm betting it's going to be pretty darn impressive. You gotta have a little faith, big guy."

They meet up with Todd at the designated coordinates. Their erstwhile Wraith ally feigns offense, "Dr. McKay did not accompany you? My feelings are hurt."

"Well, you know McKay, he gets caught up in something and the time just gets away from him."

"Until next time then, perhaps...over dinner."

"I think not."

"I am curious to meet this 'ruler' you spoke of."

Sheppard stands next to him facing back the way they've come. "Watch."

 _The air becomes heavy and humid. Time slows and stretches._

 _She appears out of thin air, draped in black, striding across a battlefield, the trailing edge of her gown soaking up the blood of the fallen. The black irises of her eyes flash. A storm rages within her terrible aspect._

 _The words of those who have witnessed this fearful incarnation of justice scatter before the wind, their whispered warning, 'beware or you shall also fall.'_

Sheppard clears his head and his vision, unsure whether anyone else has seen this manifestation. Glancing left and right, he realises he is down on one knee. Ronon has followed suit but is giving Sheppard a _what-the-hell-are-we-doing_ scowl. Sheppard returns a _hell-if-I-know_ look and pushes himself back to his feet.

The Wraith remains still, his reptilian eyes examining this female. His head rises slightly, sniffing sharply. "Interesting," he observes in a throaty tone. "Not human."

"This is the one you spoke of," she states as fact, not as question.

Sheppard steps to her side. "Yes. Ville, this is Todd. Todd, meet Ville."

"Wraith males are permitted _names_ ," she scoffs as she circles the Wraith indifferently.

Eyes narrowing, Todd responds, "We have no need of them, it's true. An indulgance for my good friend - "

"You know my commander," she interrupts. "Here is what will happen. He will ask you questions. You will give him answers. Your ship will not be permitted to communicate until we are done. If we are satisfied with his report, you and your slaves will be permitted to leave. If we are _very_ satifisied," she pauses and fixes the Wraith with an impenetrable stare, "we will consider granting you a second audience."

Todd roars with laughter. "As intriguing as that sounds," his laugh turns into a growl, "you insult me." Ronon draws his gun. The Wraith soldiers raise their weapons in response.

 _A flurry of wing blinds them all with a piercing scream. Talons. Claws. Nails. Out of the blinding light, a shadow falls, scraping skin and scorching earth._

This time, Sheppard knows it is not just him. Ronon's jaw pulses as he lowers the barrel slightly. All the Wraith soldiers are tensed as if stricken. Todd recovers quickly but remains coiled and wary.

Sheppard nearly jumps as she turns sharply into his personal space. "If he does not wish to cooperate, kill him." Expressionless, Sheppard's eyes dart to hers. She holds his gaze and suggests sadistically, "Send his head back to the hive and invite his second in command to join us. Repeat as needed." She leaves Sheppard to play his part and extends her hand, "Ronon Dex. You will escort us back to our ship."

Ronon glances at Sheppard who flicks his eyes in the direction of the jumper. As he and Todd watch them leave, Sheppard's lip curls, "Great little lady, don't you think? Hands down, the best boss I've ever had." He looks for all the world like a guard dog let off his leash yet too polite to rip out your throat.

* * *

"What the hell was that about?" Ronon gripes after a safe distance.

"Your temper," Ville answers patiently setting a swift pace. "First point, the Wraith can't harm me. Second point, I would not have allowed the Wraith to harm any of you. So your action was either willful or you doubt me. And you seriously underestimate John's ability."

"What are you talking about?"

She sighs gently, "Ronon, I understand that you and he would go to hell and back for each other. He trusts you to question his judgement when you don't agree and to confront him with the truth as you see it, but keep in mind, he is not a fragile human being anymore."


	62. The Wraith Queen

The mission briefing is short. Before Sheppard could even finish, Ronon interrupts him, "We're gonna allow ourselves to be captured by the Wraith?"

"Sheppard, are you nuts? What kind of plan is that?" McKay joins in the opposition.

"The kind of plan that will get me close enough to take out the Queen."

McKay suggests, "Why not start with a male - they're weaker, right?"

"We don't want to advertise our advantage."

Ronon challenges Ville. "And you're okay with this?" She says nothing.

"She's going with us. To observe."

McKay relaxes. "Oh. Well then, when do we leave?"

Sheppard and Ronon evaluate each other's resolve. The smaller man pats his friend's shoulder, giving him a enouraging smile and uses his _and-here's-the-sweet-part_ voice, "It's got to be believable so you can kill as many Wraith as you want."

Ronon makes a quick study of McKay's demeanor then answers Sheppard with a cruel grin. "Fine. When do we leave?"

Sheppard slaps him on the arm enthusiastically. "One hour. Let's gear up." McKay follows him through the door.

Hanging back, Ronon turns to Ville. "You've got McKay's back, right?"

She nods. "And yours - if you need it."

"What about Sheppard's?"

"This is his mission. His choice. I promised him I wouldn't stop him."

He scowls. "But you're not going to help him either. You really think he can take on a Queen by himself?"

Honestly she admits, "I don't know. This is his path, not mine."

* * *

 _The mental onslaught is sudden and brutal._

 _Fight the battles you can win. Why resist something as meaningless as kneeling if it means saving your strength to mount a mental defense?_

 _Each Queen's approach is different, he's found. Some merely seek to crush the will quickly. Others enjoy toying with their prey. The ones that attempt to seduce may be the most frightening of all._

 _The Wraith can make you see things that aren't there._

 _A Queen can make you say things you don't want to say._

 _Feel things you don't want to feel._

 _Think about things that scare the crap out of you._

 _Like clowns. Stephen King's "It." John Wayne Gacy. Ronald McDonald. And the most terrifying of all : Bozo._

 _It's his own anti-interrogation tactic that works just as well against Wraith as it does against Taliban._

 _An argument can be made in favor of The Litany Against Fear - if you can remember all the damn words while an unescapable pressure bears down on your mind like so many tons of ocean._

 _Approaching the breaking point, flippancy becomes indespensible. Place an inconsequential truth between two lies. Blurt out bullshit nonsense instead of useful, verifiable information._

 _The worst part, ironically, is the touch. The back of the fingers caressing the line from his temple to his jaw. First cold, then heat, physical contact implying compassion in contrast to the psychic assault. Pleasure and pain. Desire and dread. Relief and revulsion._

 _Her voice echoes in his ears and through his mind, touching off chords of despair and longing with promises of comfort and release, power and elevation._

 _A certain sense of self-loathing comes in handy at this point._

 _The most powerful minds were unafraid to show you glimpses of their terrible beauty. God help him if one of them figures out the complexities of human desire._

 _'Get up, John.' Another voice in his head._

 _Pushing back only saps one's strength. Evasion is the key : bait and switch. Get her to chase her own tail._

 _'John, fight.' He gets one foot beneath him. The air is crushed out of his lungs. He'd practiced that._

 _'Fight her, John.'_

 _He looks up through a blood red veil of rage and unsheaths his knife._

 _'Go, John. Get up.'_

He pushes off the floor, stumbles forward a step and plunges the knife into the Queen's heart. She raises her feeding hand. He twists the knife with the last of his anger and collapses beside her on his hands and knees.

"Sheppard!" His hand meets Ronon's sword in the air. The weight and gravity of it do the work as he guides the blade to cleave her neck, decapitating her.

"That," he gasps, "will definitely kill you." He underhands the sword back to Ronon to finish off the last drone soldier. Losing consciousness, Sheppard's body hits the floor.

He wakes up in the back of the jumper to discover his plan has gone as well as he'd hoped. The Queen is dead with all the Wraith who witnessed her demise cut down before they could convey those images to others in the hive. With her ship destroyed, the other hives don't know a Queen has been assassinated by a 'mere human.'

The shockwave from the explosion rocks the jumper as McKay concentrates on stablising the jumper's approach to the gate. Sheppard's eyes roll back to look toward the cockpit, "I gotta get up there." Ville places her hand in the center of his chest, "Stay. You're in no condition to fly."

Hearing Ronon dialing the gate, Sheppard mumbles, "You may be right," and passes out again.


	63. I Know What I Have To Do

He woke up with a hell of a headache that would _not_ go away. Dr. Beckett tried to keep him in the infirmary.

"What are you going to do - give me an aspirin?"

"I'd like to keep you under observation to establish a baseline to compare your future recovery efforts. We can't do a straight line comparison from you to Ville. You're new at this, you do no hae her experience..."

Sheppard snarls, "I can't stay here, Carson." His eyes darken and glower.

Beckett takes a moment to compose himself. "Colonel. You're not acting like yourself."

He grinds out the words. "I've got a goddamned headache - I'm not really feeling _sociable_ right now." Trying to clear his head, he offers to check in every couple of hours.

Though not happy about it, Beckett relents. "I'll see you back here in two hours. And you," he looks over Sheppard's shoulder, "had better keep an eye on him."

Sheppard snaps around. Worried, he asks Ville, "How long have you standing there?"

"Long enough." She reaches to touch his forehead. He flinches minutely; Beckett probably didn't even notice it. She lays her hand on Sheppard's back instead. "Let's go find something to help you unwind."

Sheppard nods sullenly and hops off the bed. "Thanks, doc," he says apologetically.

He tries to focus on her touch to keep it together, not too successfully, until they're in his quarters away from all eyes. "Thanks. I was afraid I was going to hurt somebody if I stayed in the infirmary."

"John, what's going on?"

"You can't _feel_ that?" He digs the heel of his hand against his forehead, "There's this rage in my head and...It's. Not. Mine," he spits out.

"Okay." She remains calm, projecting serenity. "I don't sense anything unusual, John. You've always had...a certain amount of rage."

He virtually explodes. "That _bitch_! She left something behind. She put this thing in my mind, didn't she? _Didn't_ she?" His voice reverberates off the walls.

"Easy, easy." She offers her hand, "Show it to me?"

He backs away, shaking his head, "No. No, if I open up to you, it'll get out. It'll kill everyone in this city." His back finds the wall and he slides to the floor clutching his head.

Her heart goes out to him as she watches him working the problem - considering and discarding options and solutions. She asks him, "What can I do?"

Realisation crosses his face, worry creeping into his eyes as he looks up, "You _can't_ help me. Can you? If I can't control this myself, if I can't control my power, my own...energy then I'm a danger to everyone and you can't let that happen."

"John, you _are_ in control. You wouldn't think anything was wrong if you weren't. Tell me. What do you need? If I have it, I'll give it to you."

His gaze slides to the horizon. He whispers, "I know what I have to do." Then he's gone. She reaches out to search for him but he's covered his tracks well. "Damn." Her eyes fall on the table next to his bed. His old Air Force dog tags hang from the lamp - where Sumner's used to hang. "John, where did you go?"

The two hours pass rather...well, everything's relative. Ville turns as Beckett enters her office, startled to see someone else with him. "Teyla. I didn't think you were still here." The admission does not go unnoticed.

Teyla smiles tentatively. "The conference ran a little late. I was hoping to speak with John before I left but no one seems to be able to find him." Teyla glances questioningly from Ville to Beckett.

Crossing his arms with an air of severe disappointment, Beckett comments, "Colonel Sheppard missed his two hour check-in."

"I see."

"I released him from the infirmary because you assured me that you would watch him."

"To be fair, I don't recall actually making those assurances but I take your point."

Beckett sighs, "Fine. Where is he?"

"I don't know."

"How can ye nae know?"

Ville motions Teyla to sit and drops into her own chair pulling her feet up underneath her. "Because he doesn't want to be found. He feels there's something he has to do. Alone. I have to respect that, Carson."

Quietly, Beckett chides her, "I hope you know what the bloody hell you're doing."

Teyla asks apprehensively. "What has been happening?"

Ville describes the plan, the mission. The flawed vision.

Teyla shakes her head. "That doesn't make any sense. Wraith can live for many generations. Very few of our worlds have the sophisticated technology necessary to mount a serious offense. Eliminating the queens gives us no tactical advantage at this time." She breaks off with a wince.

Beckett asks, "What tis it, luv?"

"I have been having these little headaches. It is nothing."

A kind of shiver passes through Ville. "Teyla," she takes the young woman's face in her hands. _'Show me.'_

Teyla draws a deep breath. As she exhales, she opens her thoughts. Ville wafts in like a gentle breeze, conveying comfort, examining the human mind for trauma, applying light pressure to strengthen mental defenses.

Teyla shares with Ville the memory of her mental battle with a Wraith Queen, a killer that would have extinguished her unborn son's life if not for John Sheppard's sureness and certainty in executing the creature.

Two more deaths in rapid succession rock both women's minds, Ville shielding Teyla's as each blow is stronger than the one before it.

Teyla's eyes fly open. She grips Ville's arms and commands, "You _must_ stop him."

"Teyla." Ville's whisper is heartbreakingly soft.

"No! You know what he will become - I've seen it in your mind. You _cannot_ let that happen."

"I _am_ going after him now. I will do everything I can to dissuade him but I cannot force him to stop. He must choose for himself. You know this to be true."

Teyla nods stoically and allows Ville to guide her into a deep meditative state.

"Carson, get her to the infirmary. You'll need to sedate her...and be prepared to increase the dosage."

"Her 'headaches' are going to get worse," he assumes. "Each queen he kills is stronger than the last...?"

"The man is nothing if not methodical. Go." Ville surrenders the diminuative woman to Beckett's care then turns to Lt. Cadman who awaits her orders. "Two things, Laura. I have to leave the city. Call...," she started to say 'the Council' but everything is about to change in Atlantis, "Rodney, Jennifer and Ronon. Brief them." She reaches out to Cadman's mind to convey the information her Head of Security needs to know.

The Lt. nods once. "I understand. Good luck, ma'am."


	64. The Guardian

_He has become merciless, giving up all pretext of stealth, discarding the charade of infiltration. Appearing in the throne room, he begins to strangle the Queen, uses telekinesis to send any attacking males or drone soldiers into walls and structures with enough force to kill them outright. As he destroys her mind, he bombards her with the humiliating thought that she has been beaten by a pitiful human. Dropping her lifeless body to the deck, he quickly examines the state of the hive. Transforming into pure energy, he streams through the semi-organic ship to wreak havoc with the engines and weapons systems. In hive ships that are too well maintained for him to destabilise the engines or weapons easily, he settles for stripping their defensive systems and sending a distress beacon to lure another hive to complete the destruction. Then the cycle begins again._

 _Streaming through the quantum foam, she follows his trail, a witness to the destruction. She tries calling to him but he will not hear. Slowly she begins sensing something else. Something very powerful awakening from a long sleep at the heart of the galaxy. She abandons his trail to search for this other presence. She makes contact._

 _'Who dares destroy our children?' The demand reverberates throughout Pegasus. Millions of unsuspecting creatures recoil in terror without understanding why._

 _Deferentially, Ville replies, 'Queen Mother, we did not intend to disturb your slumber.'_

 _'You are a Progenitor?'_

 _'No. I am a Guardian. A Watcher for those whom my ancestors seeded in this galaxy so long ago.'_

 _'Usurpers. A scourge amoung our creation.'_

 _'Yet your children have learned to feed upon them. Both species fight for survival...and destiny. We must not interfere you and I.'_

 _'Too late._ _ **He**_ _has come.'_

 _Like a fury, Sheppard's consciousness rushes into their presence. 'What the hell is that thing?'_

 _'I think what the Ancients are to humans; this entity is to the Wraith.'_

 _'So. Not an evolutionary accident.'_

 _'The queens are dead. You can stop now.'_

 _'That thing will just create more.' He begins gathering strength again._

 _'But not before the humans have a chance to grow in numbers, to progress enough to level the playing field against the leaderless Wraith. You've given them that chance. Atlantis will be the shining example of what they themselves can achieve but ultimately they have to choose their own paths.'_

 _'If this thing dies, that gives them hope that one day they will never have to fear the Wraith again.'_

 _'This discovery changes everything. This is more than the humans and the Wraith. It's right in front of you, John. Open your eyes. If you destroy it, you won't just have to live with that knowledge the rest of your life. You'll live with it forever.'_

 _'I have no problem with that.' He brings his will to bear._

 _'I'm sorry. I can't let you do this.'_

 _'Help me or get out of the way.'_

 _'No.' Her will crashes like a wave dissipating its force into the ocean, leaving herself defenseless. 'You'll have to take me instead.'_

 _He charges the Queen Mother, passing through Ville's consciousness. Ville draws him around the accretion disc of the black hole, the engine of the Pegasus galaxy. She collapses into his center and allows herself to be enveloped._

 _Preparing to strike, he hesitates - his connection to Ville is gone. A new perspective unfolds in his mind like the petals of a rose. The Queen Mother is connected to the singularity beyond the event horizon. If he destroys the entity, might it rip the galaxy apart? Would Atlantis be destroyed? Teyla? Nearly everyone he still cares about._

 _[It's your fault they're dead.']_

 _['Fight her, John.']_

 _['You failed your friends.']_

 _The Queen Mother joins the litany, 'And the woman that loved you. She will haunt you forever. This is what you have become. The Destroyer. This is your destiny, John Shep-pard.'_

 _'I can live with that.'_

 _The eternal and timeless mind presses down on him, pushing and pulling at him, searching for his limits, to stretch him beyond his breaking point. Somehow, his center holds._

 _[Fight, John.]_

 _He hears her calling from within and creates a new metaphor. Time slows. Drawing on their combined strength, he feints submission to the Queen Mother, pulling it closer, binding it to him. He uses the rotation of the accretion disc to perform a slingshot around the edge of the black hole. At the moment he achieves escape velocity, he breaks the bond and releases the entity on the cusp of the event horizon. They seemingly fly apart like a severed pair of subatomic particles but the Queen Mother entity is caught between the gravitational pull of the singularity within the event horizon and the pull of the whirlpool of rapidly spinning matter just outside the event horizon._


	65. The Protector

_She dreams beneath the desert sky, her rivers soon to run dry. The moon is eclipsed by a cloud. She feels like rain. He reaches down and touches her cheek._

 _Wryly, he admonishes her, 'I did not stop you from running away to_ Destiny _just so you could sacrifice yourself.'_

 _'For one good man. A Protector,' she smiles serenely._

 _'If I am, it's because you see me that way.'_

 _'Well. Let's take stock, shall we? The singularity is in one piece. The black hole is relatively stable. The galaxy's spin is only off by a small enough difference as to make no difference at all.'_

 _'But we won't be going back to Atlantis anytime soon.'_

 _'We can go anywhere but communicating with them, no. They won't see us again in their lifetimes.' Sleepily, she murmurs in his mind, 'You know, you really didn't have to do all this just to get me alone.'_

 _'You're part of me now.' He gathers her up, nurturing the better part of his nature. 'I'm not letting go.'_

McKay wanders down to the power room alone. His excuse is to check on the reserve levels. He could do this from the control room but he needed to get away from everyone else and their ridiculous platitudes.

As soon as Cadman told them what was going on, he knew they wouldn't be back. Right now, he can't deal with it.

He walks in on an astonishing sight. The platform designed to interface ZPMs with Atlantis' power grid has been reconfigured to hold three glowing white spheres.

Sensor scans show they are indeed ZPMs - an advanced design far beyond and more efficient than any of the designs left behind by the Ancients. The power equations indicate that, with judicious use, the spheres will provide the city with power for...let's see, carry the one, ah, just under one hundred million years.

"Holy crap," he gasps and raises his face quickly and expectantly. "Hello?" A moment later, without a response, he mentally kicks himself for being an idiot and goes eagerly back to the tablet, running scenarios.

Behind him, an image of John Sheppard flutters to life. "Rodney."

"Oh my god, you are here."

"Before you start rapid-firing questions - I'm not really here. This is, ah, an interactive hologram program that you invented. Will invent. In the future. One of your possible futures - I hate time travel. Anyway, I didn't think you'd mind if I borrowed it for this.

"Hope you like the redecorating we did - _I_ picked out the colour scheme. Ah, if you're seeing this, you know, blah, blah, Ville and I probably haven't made it back to Atlantis yet. In fact, it might take us a long, long while. So I wanted to say goodbye right this time.

"Take care of our city. Take care of each other." The image begins to fade. _"Oh, and go get the girl."_

Richard Wolseyís greatest triumph is marred by this tragic news. Earth's Atlantean outpost and the _Icarus_ base have spearheaded an effort to resettle a small colony of Palestinians on JS151967. A bold group no longer content to let politicians and generals dictate their future choose to sever ties with the land of their birth to build that future in a new world.

Evan Lorne pours champagne for himself, his wife Sara and Richard. He toasts, "To Peace."

Richard adds, "To Ville and John, who helped to start us down this path."

"Here, here," Sara echoes the sentiment.

Unobserved, elsewhere in the universe, a star ignites, rather suddenly so on the cosmic scale of things. In relatively short order, a planetary body forms in a 'Goldilocks' orbit about the new star.

The climate is nice, life is abundant but there is no higher intelligence here. Not yet. The single monument anywhere on the planet suggesting intervention, divine or otherwise, is an obelisk that serves as both a lighthouse and a warning that this planet is protected and awaiting its future occupants.

This system has been carefully placed in the path of a ship called _Destiny_ , due to arrive in several million years. Give or take a few.

 _In the clearing, stands a boxer_

 _And a fighter by his trade_

 _And he carries the reminders_

 _Of every glove that laid him down_

 _Or cut him till he cried out_

 _In his anger and his shame_

 _'I am leaving, I am leaving'_

 _But the fighter still remains._


End file.
